Dragon's Breath
by Khentkawes
Summary: Merlin can't save Arthur on his own; only magic as ancient as the dragons themselves can save him. But when Arthur survives, destiny shifts and realigns, and not everyone is pleased with the change. Merlin and Arthur face an uncertain future and the twists and turns of destiny. Spoilers for 5x13, but goes AU from the finale onward.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Dragon's Breath

**Summary**: Arthur is dying, and there's nothing Merlin can do. But someone else has the power to save the king. Will Destiny allow Camelot's king to rule a while longer? Spoilers for 5x13. And a new ending.

**Notes**: _I really did love the finale, and in a lot of ways, I agree that the story had to end as it did, with Arthur's death and the promise of his return. It was a gorgeous ending. But another part of me wants a happy ending so that I can at least imagine a Camelot where Arthur has a long and prosperous reign with Merlin at his side._

_I planned for this to be a short three or four chapter thing, but it's since developed a life of its own.  
_

* * *

Percival had thought that Gwaine's screams would haunt him forever, but it was nothing compared to the sight of his friend, broken and dying.

"I've failed," Gwaine said in a weak, raspy voice.

"No," Percival denied. "You haven't." Gwaine's eyes closed and Percival started to panic. "Gwaine," he said softly, repeating his friend's name. "Gwaine."

As he held Gwaine in his arms, listened to his shallow, stuttering breaths, Percival knew that his friend was close to death. There had been so much death in recent days; it felt as if the ground was soaked in it, as though Percival had bathed in blood and would never be clean. And now, Morgana was marching towards Avalon to find Arthur and kill him while Gwaine was slowly dying in Percival's arms. It was more than Percival's heart could take.

They'd thought they could stop Morgana, but they'd been wrong, so wrong and so foolish. All they'd done was make it worse. All they'd done was place Arthur in even greater danger. Percival understood why Gwaine felt he had failed, because he shared the same burden of guilt.

They should never have come. Percival should have convinced Gwaine that this was a foolish mission. He should have been the voice of reason.

And now, because of their actions, both Arthur and Gwaine might die. Both of them were dying, even as Percival sat in the dirt, staring at his comrade and feeling the tears gather in his eyes.

There were only two options open to him, now. He could leave Gwaine here, condemning him to die alone, and set out to find Arthur, to try somehow to protect him from Morgana. Or he could take Gwaine back to Camelot, ride as fast as he possibly could, and pray that Gaius could save him. Either way he might fail, and two good men, two of his closest friends, could pay for that failure with their lives.

In the end, Percival found himself acting before he had even made a conscious decision. He couldn't abandon a fellow knight, a brother in arms, without trying to save him. Arthur wasn't alone; he had Merlin, and Percival knew that Merlin would never abandon the king. Percival only hoped that the two of them could hold out until he was able to join them.

Quickly scooping Gwaine up in his arms, Percival returned to their horses.

"Hang on, Gwaine. Don't give up on me now. Just hang on." He tied Gwaine to his own horse before swinging up into the saddle behind him, keeping one arm wrapped around his companion and riding for Camelot as though his life depended on it.

* * *

When Arthur's eyes drifted shut, Merlin felt his heart stop. He was losing him right before his eyes, and there seemed to be nothing he could do. It was desperation that led him to call Kilgharrah, desperation and heart-wrenching grief.

His fear was blinding him, but he was too single-minded to realize it. For nearly a decade, his life had revolved around Arthur. Even now, nothing mattered beyond his friend's life.

He didn't notice that Kilgharrah said nothing – no warnings, no advice, not even a greeting. He merely nodded in acceptance of Merlin's request and allowed Merlin to climb onto his neck, pulling the limp and silent king with him.

Merlin was tense with apprehension, almost shaking with the fear that he would be too late. He didn't even know what he was supposed to do, or how he would convince the Sidhe to use their magic to save Arthur. Perhaps he could draw on their magic himself, call on the ancient powers of the earth that dwelt at Avalon and bend them to his will. Merlin didn't know what he was capable of anymore, didn't know if he had the power to save Arthur or the power to change anything. Perhaps thwarting prophecies and changing destiny was simply beyond him. But Merlin knew he had to try. It was Arthur, after all. They were brothers in all but blood, and Merlin wouldn't stop until every last hope was extinguished.

The sky slowly brightened and the dim gray light turned to dawn as the wind whispered beneath Kilgharrah's wings. Merlin held tightly to Kilgharrah's back, and even tighter to Arthur.

They landed at the edge of the lake, bathed in the first rays of morning sunshine, and Merlin dragged Arthur towards the boat moored at the shore's edge.

"Merlin," Kilgharrah stopped him. "There's nothing you can do."

He felt his heart turn to ice. "I've failed?"

"No, young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building has come to pass." Kilgharrah's voice was uncharacteristically gentle, soft and reassuring. But Merlin felt his grief overpowering him again.

He hoisted Arthur into his arms with a cry, struggling again towards the boat and the edge of the lake. Merlin's life had been spent fighting for Arthur, protecting him. Even in the face of defeat, Merlin couldn't stop fighting and his heart rebelled against Kilgharrah's words, even as he knew – had known for some time now – that he was right. There was nothing Merlin could do.

"I can't lose him!" Merlin cried. "He's my friend!"

Kilgharrah let out a long sigh. "His wounds are far beyond your ability to heal, Merlin. The Sidhe will not save him, nor is there anything that you can do for him if you reach the isle of Avalon."

Merlin shook with the power of his tears, clinging to Arthur stubbornly as he wept. On some level, he'd always felt that it would come to this. Destiny had blessed Merlin in so many ways, but it cursed him at the same time, and despite all of his efforts, he never seemed able to change it, never was able to save the people who mattered the most.

"The strength of your love has always been your greatest gift, young warlock. Though it did not always lead you down the right path, your compassion and your love for those around you always guided your steps. It is a human trait, but one I have come to admire."

Kilgharrah's words made no sense to Merlin. He sunk to the grassy shore, still holding Arthur to his chest. He tried to answer the dragon, but no words would come.

"It is because of that compassion and all that you have done for me that I choose to leave you with one last gift."

"I don't understand."

"Lay Arthur down, Merlin, and come to me."

Hesitantly, Merlin obeyed, reduced to the state of a compliant child in the face of Kilgharrah's command. Merlin walked right up to Kilgharrah, who lowered his head until he was nearly eye to eye with his dragonlord.

"Only the most ancient of magic can save Arthur now. And my magic is more ancient than any, even that of the Sidhe. I am not as strong as I once was, but I believe I have strength enough for this."

"Are you saying you can help him?"

"Yes."

Suddenly, Merlin recalled Gaius's words back in the forest. Saving Arthur would take a power as ancient as the dragons themselves. But Merlin hadn't thought that would mean….

"You'll die. Won't you?"

"All things die in time, young warlock. You know this. And I am old." For a moment, Merlin thought he could see the ancient power in Kilgharrah's eyes, weighed down by the thousands of years of history that Kilgharrah had born witness to.

"But know this," Kilgharrah warned. "No man, no matter how great, can know his own destiny. Some lives have been foretold, Merlin. It was always Arthur's destiny to die, to rest here at Avalon, and to rise again when Albion's need is greatest. For Arthur is not just a king; he is the once and future king. That destiny will still come to pass. All I can do is to delay it for a time."

"I understand," Merlin said, though he wasn't sure if he truly did. All he knew was that he felt both an incredible hope and an incredible sadness. "Kilgharrah, I can't order you to do this. I _won't_ order you. But…"

"But you wish it," Kilgharrah said softly. "Do not be sad, my friend. I do this of my own free will as my last gift to you and out of gratitude for all you have done for me and my kind. Now, go to your king."

Merlin did, kneeling at Arthur's side and gently supporting him. He didn't look up, but he could feel Kilgharrah's warm breath blow over them both. A moment later, Arthur stirred weakly in Merlin's arms.

As blue eyes blinked open, Arthur looked confused. "Merlin?"

"Arthur."

Arthur winced in pain and tried to move, but his weakness forced him back. "What did you do?"

"He did nothing," Kilgharrah's voice startled them both. As Arthur looked up at the Great Dragon, his eyes widened. "It is I who revived you, young Pendragon, and it is I who will save you."

Arthur was clearly too confused to reply, and too weak to do anything else.

"I want you to know who it is that heals you. And why. I do not do this for you, young king, though I have no doubt you will prove worthy of the gift. Instead, I choose to save you out of allegiance to your servant and my lord. You would do well to value his loyalty."

Merlin pulled away from Arthur then, and rose to his feet, standing between the king and the dragon.

"Kilgharrah…" Merlin's voice broke.

"It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men."

With that, Kilgharrah returned his attention to Arthur, gathered his magic, and exhaled over Arthur. The magic shimmered in the sunshine, swirling between them and wrapping around Arthur in tendrils of light. Arthur gasped, his eyes widening as he felt the dragon's breath surround him and the magic fill him.

As Kilgharrah exhaled the last of his magic, Arthur's eyes drifted closed and he sank back onto the grass in a peaceful sleep. Merlin knelt at his side, placing his hand on his chest to feel its steady rise and fall with each breath. Then he stood again and walked to Kilgharrah's side.

The dragon was slumped on the ground, head resting on one large clawed foot. Merlin placed one hand on his cheek and Kilgharrah smiled slightly. He opened his eyes and looked at Merlin for one long moment, then his eyes drifted closed and he let out one last puff of breath.

Merlin had felt his own magic respond as the Great Dragon's breath restored Arthur. For a moment, it had seemed as if magic was singing all around them, almost laughing with joy as it danced around the king, the sorcerer, and the dragon.

But now, Merlin felt something deep inside of himself crack as Kilgharrah's heart stopped. He felt the dragon die, the connection they'd always had snapping, leaving a painful wound in Merlin's heart.

Gently stroking the side Kilgharrah's face, Merlin felt more tears fall.

"Goodbye, old friend," he whispered.

For a long time, Merlin sat on the ground between the body of the fallen dragon and the peacefully sleeping king, his entire being torn between immeasurable joy and soul-deep grief. But at that moment, Merlin knew this was how it was supposed to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes**: _First, much thanks to all who have read/reviewed/favorited/etc. It is deeply and sincerely appreciated. Second, this chapter got away from me, and consequently, the boys are nowhere near Camelot yet. I hope that the characterization still works for you. It's a bit angsty, but I tried to keep the angst in-character. Hope you all enjoy it, as this fic will forever remain in the land of denial. :)  
_

* * *

Percival had stayed in Camelot only long enough to ensure that Gwaine was safely in Gaius's capable hands. The old physician had made no promises, but Gwaine was strong and he had held on all the way to Camelot. Gaius swore to do everything that he could, and beyond that they could only hope for the best.

Once Gwaine was seen to, Percival had saddled a fresh horse and set out for Avalon at top speed, leaving just before dark and ridding straight through the night.

He traveled alone, knowing it was better that way. After a bit of arguing, he had convinced Leon to stay behind to protect the Queen and to ensure the kingdom remained safe for Arthur's return. At least, that's what he'd said. In reality Percival knew that he couldn't risk another life. This was more than a fool's errand; it was likely a death sentence. Percival could do nothing against Morgana. Their last encounter had proven that. If he successfully found Morgana, he could do nothing but slow her down a bit and die by her hand. But maybe that would buy Arthur and Merlin the time that they needed. If Arthur was even still alive.

Percival voiced none of these thoughts as he left Camelot behind and rode for Avalon, thinking sadly that he might never return to the city he'd pledged to protect. The thought didn't frighten him; Percival wasn't afraid to die. He had done what he could for Gwaine. Now he must do the same for Arthur and trust fate for the rest. It was the least he could do for a friend.

* * *

At first, Guinevere had stayed with Gaius as he looked after Gwaine, but eventually she tore herself away. It hurt to see her friend lying there, looking so weak and broken. It hurt more to think that her husband might be lying in the forest somewhere, looking just as weak and broken. Perhaps he was already dead.

She wanted nothing more than to run to him, no matter how far away she had to run to reach him.

But Gwen was queen now and with Arthur gone, she was all that Camelot had left. She had to trust that Arthur would hold on, for her and for Camelot. She had to trust that if anyone could take care of Arthur, it was Merlin.

The realization that Merlin had magic had come upon her slowly. She'd known Gaius was lying about his absence before the battle. Merlin was devoted to Arthur; he always had been. He would never have left Arthur's side if he could possibly avoid it.

But what confused her most was the look in Gaius's eyes when he stared at that sorcerer in the battle. Gaius obviously knew him, and must have known him well to speak of him with such reverence, such gratitude.

If she'd had time to think about it, she probably would have figured out the whole thing, right then and there. But it was only back in Camelot, consumed by worry, that she had time to think things through properly. After learning that Merlin was with her husband, somewhere out in the woods, she had finally put all the pieces together. And it was so obvious.

She hadn't told anyone, of course, not even Gwaine or Leon. She'd nearly told Percival, before he set off for Avalon. But it wasn't her place to do so, and she knew that nothing she said would keep Sir Percival from riding out to protect his king. She'd seen his determination, the intensity of his desire to fight for Arthur. She also knew he had to go in order to assuage his own guilt over his failure to kill Morgana. As queen, Gwen knew she should be angry at Gwaine and Percival for setting off on their own, for not telling her of their plan, for placing Arthur in even greater danger, albeit unintentionally. But she understood why they'd done it. She just hoped their reckless attempt to avenge Arthur didn't cause his death, as well as theirs.

That was why she'd finally left Gaius's chambers, unable to look at Gwaine's still body for another moment. She felt as though the world was crumbling all around her, and she could do nothing to stop it.

She wandered the castle in a daze and finally found herself in one of the highest towers in Camelot, standing at a window overlooking the city. She could see past the walls of the citadel, catching just a glimpse of the road that wound its way up to Camelot.

Queen Guinevere stayed at that window for hours, just watching and waiting. And hoping.

* * *

When Arthur woke, he found himself lying by the side of a lake. He felt strong and whole, basking in the sun. It was strange, but he felt as if the world had suddenly brightened, as if the clouds that had plagued them had simply disappeared. It was an odd sensation, but a lovely one. He breathed deeply, relishing the fresh air.

And then it all came back to him.

He sat up suddenly, causing his head to spin as he was momentarily overwhelmed with dizziness. But he remembered it all.

Camlann. The battle. The sorcerer on the hill. Mordred's sword piercing his side.

Merlin in the woods, choking on his tears as he admitted to being a sorcerer.

Morgana following them, threatening him, the hatred and madness in her eyes before Merlin ran her through with Arthur's gleaming sword.

His own words as he thanked Merlin.

Waking to see a dragon… wait, a _dragon_? That didn't happen… did it?

Steadying himself, Arthur took a few deep breaths, bracing himself with one hand on the grass as he took stock of his surroundings. He was still on the shore by the edge of the lake, but it felt as though he'd been moved some distance from where he'd been when he last woke.

His eyes followed the edge of the lake, absently noting a boat some thirty feet away. When he glanced away from the lake and back behind him, he saw, on the opposite end of the clearing, a large pile of smoldering ashes and a large bonfire, just beginning to subside. And standing at the edge of that fire was a very familiar figure.

Arthur tried to call out to him, but the words caught in his throat. Swallowing hoarsely, he tried again.

"Merlin." The word came out softly, quietly. But somehow Merlin heard. He didn't respond, not immediately, but he heard. Even from a distance, Arthur saw Merlin's shoulders tense. He raised his hand and the flames flared brighter, consuming the rest of the ashes in a bright blaze. Then Merlin turned to face Arthur.

Slowly, Merlin walked away from the fire and towards the king. Something about his movements, the tightness in his shoulders and the weariness in his face, made him look impossibly old. For a moment, Arthur saw the wise old sorcerer standing on the cliff overlooking Camlann, but when he blinked he saw only Merlin again, looking worn and tired.

Arthur couldn't speak as he watched Merlin kneel down beside him, reaching out to offer his support.

"Arthur," he spoke softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Are you all right? Let me look at your wound." Arthur batted his hands away.

"There's no need. I'm fine. Whatever your dragon friend did, it seems to have worked." Merlin looked down, avoiding Arthur's eyes. That action, combined with the redness around Merlin's eyes, confirmed what Arthur already suspected. He glanced at the pile of ashes and then back at Merlin. "Is that the dragon's body?"

Merlin nodded. "It seemed fitting. He was a creature of magic and fire, and he should return to magic and fire."

Arthur looked in Merlin's eyes, but he couldn't read all of the emotions he saw there. He reached up to grasp Merlin's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Merlin frowned in confusion.

"For everything. For this. For what you were willing to do for me. For what the dragon did for me."

"That was Kilgharrah's doing, not mine."

"No, Merlin, he did it for you. Which means you both deserve my thanks."

Tears gathered in Merlin's eyes again, but didn't fall. Eventually, Merlin had to look away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Arthur gave his shoulder one last squeeze before he let go.

"Are you sure you're all right, Arthur? Kilgharrah was weak and your wound was infected with powerful magic. I don't know if…"

"I'm fine, Merlin. I feel better than I have in weeks, actually." Merlin gave him a hard look, the same one Gaius gave him when he suspected his patient wasn't being completely honest. "Okay, I'm a bit tired."

He seemed to accept this. "Yeah. Me too." But Merlin, always the physician that Gaius had trained him to be, pressed the question one last time. "Are you sure there's nothing else?"

Arthur merely shrugged. "My ribs are a bit sore, but it's nothing I can't handle. Ever since Mordred…" the words caught in Arthur's throat. "…ever since the battle, it's felt like there was a heaviness in my chest, like something was pressing on my heart, slowly crushing it"

Merlin nodded. "Yeah, that was from the piece of the sword that was broken off. Gaius said it was slowly making its way to your heart."

"But that feeling, that heaviness… it's gone." Arthur's hand moved to his side. He could feel the hole in his chainmail, but the skin underneath was unbroken. It was tender and bruised, still caked with old blood, but the wound itself was gone. Merlin's gaze followed Arthur's movements, and then he reached out to examine the wound for himself. Arthur tried not to wince as Merlin pressed against it, prodding gently as he checked for additional damage.

When he'd thoroughly examined the wound, Merlin seemed puzzled. "It's healed," Merlin said, sounding almost awed. "The wound is gone. No broken ribs, no internal bleeding, no sign of any lingering magic…."

"You sound surprised."

"No, it's not that. I… relieved. I'm relieved." Merlin laughed. "I was afraid maybe it wouldn't heal properly or maybe Kilgharrah was wrong. After everything that's happened… I was so sure… I thought I'd failed, and then…" As he tried to explain, his breath became ragged, his voice tinged with hysteria. "I was so scared, Arthur. I've never been so scared. I tried so hard, but then it just kept slipping away. Every time I thought I'd succeeded, thought I'd defeated the prophecy, it just kept happening every time, as if the harder I tried, the worse it got and everything I did… I just…I couldn't…"

Arthur had seen it coming, as Merlin tripped over his words, breathing heavily. He'd seen it happen to young knights, overwhelmed by the horror of battle to the extent that they couldn't process what had happened, couldn't talk about it without being consumed by the memories. And as Merlin began to hyperventilate, Arthur grasped him firmly by the shoulders.

"Merlin, stop it. Calm down, and just breathe, all right? Just breathe." Merlin drew in a deep, shaking breath, visibly struggling to calm himself. "That's it. Just breathe for a moment," Arthur urged. "You're fine. We both are."

Merlin slumped back against the grass, lying flat on his back, slowly forcing his breathing to return to normal. Eventually, Arthur lay down beside him and they both stared up at the sky, without saying a word.

It was strange, but Arthur had never seen Merlin panic like that before. In the past two days he'd seen the man turn the tide of a battle, defeat Saxons, kill a sorceress, and command a dragon. But here he was panicking over the possibility that he might have failed Arthur. When he thought about it, Arthur had to wonder how long Merlin had been holding this in. Throughout this whole ordeal, Merlin had been amazing calm and in control. He'd been a true warrior, a leader. It was a side of Merlin that surprised him. But, as Arthur watched a stray cloud float across the sky, he realized that Merlin must be accustomed to hiding his feelings in order to perform his duty. It was only now, once they were safe, that Merlin could allow his fear to surface even for a moment.

Arthur knew he would look at Merlin differently now. He was still Arthur's bumbling servant, his trusted companion, and his most faithful friend. He was exactly who Arthur had always believed him to be, but he was also so much more.

"I'm sorry," Merlin spoke softly, breaking into Arthur's thoughts.

"What for?"

"Well, I haven't exactly handled this all that well, now have I."

Arthur waved a hand dismissively. "This can't have been any easier for you than it was for me. You're allowed to feel a bit overwhelmed."

"No, not that. Well, yes, that. But what I meant was… I should have told you sooner. I should have told you about Mordred and the prophecy and about… me. I'm so sorry for all of the lies. You'll never know how much." Arthur rolled on his side to look at Merlin, but the sorcerer stubbornly kept his gaze on the sky, unable to look Arthur in the eye. "It was so hard in the beginning to lie, to hide. But then it just… it became a habit. It was all I knew. And sometimes I felt like it was time to stop, to finally tell you everything. But then I was afraid…afraid of how you'd react, afraid you'd kill me or send me away. And all I knew was that I had to serve you, to protect you, even if that meant lying to you every day."

Finally Merlin turned to face him. "I'm sorry, Arthur. More sorry than you'll ever know. You didn't deserve to be lied to."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you, Merlin, for saying so. But it's not necessary. And you know, if we keep this up, we'll be apologizing to each other for the next ten years. I can apologize for all the times I insulted or mistreated you. You can apologize for all the lies and deception. But I don't think it really matters anymore.

"Merlin, no matter what I've said in the past, or what you may think of yourself, I see now that you're the bravest man I've ever met. That's what's important."

Arthur stood up gracefully and reached down a hand to help Merlin to his feet. Merlin clasped his hand and rose so that they stood toe-to-toe, looking each other in the eye as equals.

"I know there's probably a lot that I still don't know and I want to hear it all. I mean, by the gods, Merlin, a _dragon_ felt that he owed you his loyalty and his life! That's a story I'd like to hear someday. But for the moment, all that matters is that you're my friend and I will always be grateful for your loyalty."

"And you'll always have it," Merlin said.

Standing side by side, Arthur could feel the strength in Merlin's words, and he could see how deeply grateful Merlin was to receive Arthur's acceptance. Arthur couldn't help but think that so much gratitude and loyalty was more than he deserved, but he would accept it willingly nonetheless.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes:** _Two things. First, this chapter is way longer than intended because Arthur and Merlin refused to shut up. Hence, we'll have to wait until next chapter to find out what's going on with Gwaine (but I promise I haven't forgotten about him). Second, I'm pretty sure this story is developing an actual plot. It's not obvious in this chapter, but there are some early hints. So, stay tuned._

_Thanks to all who read and comment, as you always make my day. :)_

* * *

Percival followed Morgana's trail through the night and for much of the following day before he found a pair of black horses tucked away in a glade of trees. He would have recognized them both immediately, even if the tack didn't clearly identify them as horses from the royal stables of Camelot. What could have happened to force Arthur and Merlin to abandon their horses? Perhaps where they were going, the horses wouldn't be necessary.

Gaius had said little about what they hoped to accomplish, only that Arthur must be taken to Avalon, as that was his only hope for survival. Percival didn't know what that meant exactly, but he was no fool. He knew that Avalon was spoken of in legends as a place of great power, a place of magic, and a place where the spirits of the dead could find peace.

He tried not to think too deeply on why Arthur would need to go to such a place.

After securing the two horses to a nearby tree, ensuring they didn't wander any farther, Percival remounted his own horse, and continued following Morgana's trail.

* * *

Arthur insisted on returning for Morgana's body. Merlin was reluctant at first, but Arthur's mind was made up. She had been his sister after all, and as much bloodshed as she had caused, she didn't deserve to be left to be eaten by wolves and wild animals. In a strange way, Arthur pitied her. He'd seen it in her eyes, there at the end, the pain and the madness that had consumed her. He wished that things could have been different, but the least he could do was see that she was buried properly. In the end, Merlin agreed. They carried her body to Avalon and placed it into the boat, sending it out into the lake.

Merlin raised a hand and whispered a quiet spell. Flames leapt from the boat, consuming the body of the dead sorceress. Arthur watched in awe, mesmerized by the foreign words Merlin spoke and the magic he saw before him. Merlin shed no tears for the woman who had once been his friend, but he did hope that death brought her peace at long last.

When Arthur asked later, Merlin explained that the spell had bound Morgana's spirit and her magic to the lake, so that even in death she could do no further harm. Her magic was powerful and even Merlin could not destroy that, but now her magic would merge with Avalon itself, protecting and maintaining the lake as a place of magic and peace.

With their final task completed, the king and the sorcerer set off on what they knew would be a long walk back to Camelot.

* * *

They made slow progress and the light was quickly fading. While rays of sunlight still filtered through the trees, the darkening of early evening was making it difficult to see. Though neither wanted to admit it, Merlin knew they would soon have to stop and make camp for the night.

Although Merlin had to admit that "make camp" wasn't really the appropriate term, considering he'd lost what few supplies they'd once had. They'd be lucky if they could find a sheltered spot to weather out the night.

When Merlin paused to survey the terrain, and Arthur nearly crashed into him, he decided they'd gone far enough.

"All right, that's it. We need to find someplace to rest for the night."

Arthur shook his head. "No, let's keep going. We need to get back to Camelot."

"Yes, we do, but you and I both know that neither one of us is up to traveling through the night, and quite honestly, I'm pretty sure I'm going to get us lost if we try it."

"You always were a lousy tracker," Arthur muttered.

"Oh, really? And what if I told you…" but Merlin never had the chance to finish the sentence, as they both froze at the sounds of something moving off in the distance, a kind of rustling in the trees followed by what might have been the sound of a horse.

Merlin and Arthur looked at one another for a moment, both listening intently. In the eerie stillness of the forest, Merlin found it impossible to determine which direction the noise had come from. He gestured for Arthur to stand back behind a nearby tree, but the king just looked at him skeptically, raising one eyebrow in a look that clearly asked, _who put you in charge?_ Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Just stay here a minute and let me scout ahead, all right?" Merlin whispered. Arthur gave him a long-suffering look, but said nothing.

Listening carefully, Merlin called on his magic, using it to illuminate the path in front of them. He could feel Arthur's intense gaze watching him as his own eyes shone with magic. In his mind, Merlin saw the path ahead, the darkening forest littered with fallen trees, even the trail they'd followed yesterday. But nothing seemed amiss. No bandits, no Saxons, no danger that Merlin could see.

He turned back to Arthur, who was still watching him with a curious expression. Merlin shook his head, as if to say, _I don't see anything_. Arthur shrugged, but he stayed where he was, as Merlin cautiously moved ahead. He'd gone less than twenty feet when he heard a footstep close by, followed by a sharp snap behind him. He turned slightly to see the point of a sword at his neck. Of course, Merlin thought. He'd scanned the path ahead, but hadn't thought to check for someone circling around from behind.

With a deep breath, Merlin turned to face his would be attacker.

"Percival, we really need to stop meeting like this," Merlin said with a grin.

As they stood facing each other, the knight's expression was a mix of shock and relief. "Merlin." Percival lowered his sword. "Where's Arthur?"

"Right here," Arthur replied, stepping out of hiding, his own sword held loosely at his side.

"Sire," the word came out as a soft breath, like a prayer. "We feared the worst. Morgana has been hunting for you, she was tracking you to Avalon…"

"We know," Arthur said softly, with a note of sadness.

"She's dead," Merlin added simply.

Percival looked from one to the other in surprise. "You're sure? I mean… it's only that Gwaine and I… we went after her. I stabbed her and she lived. She threw me off as though it was nothing."

Arthur shrugged. "Apparently that's what happens when you have inferior weaponry."

"Sire?"

"She is…_was_ a high priestess of the Old Religion," Merlin explained. "I'm sure she could heal herself from an ordinary stab wound."

"Then how did you…?"

Merlin gestured vaguely to Arthur. "Arthur's sword was forged in a dragon's breath. Not even a high priestess can counteract that kind of magic."

It was almost comical the way Percival's eyes widened. For the second time in as many minutes, he found himself looking from Arthur to Merlin and then back again, feeling completely dumbfounded.

"See, what did I tell you?" Arthur said, raising his sword. "Superior weaponry. Works every time. Even when it is wielded by an inferior swordsman."

Merlin shot him a mock glare. "You know, I would take offense to that if it wasn't true."

"But you know that it is."

"Good thing I have other talents to make up for it."

The banter was so comfortingly normal that Merlin half expected Arthur to respond with his usual jokes, something about how Merlin's only talent was in getting himself thrown in the stocks, or some other such thing. He wasn't prepared for the solemn look that crossed Arthur's face.

"That you do, old friend. That you do." Arthur clasped Merlin's shoulder briefly, and then moved away to address Percival. "I can only assume if you're here looking for us that Camelot is safe?"

The knight nodded. "Yes, sire. Morgana's forces scattered after their defeat at Camlann." Merlin flinched at the name, and though both Arthur and Percival noticed, neither one commented on it. "There are still some renegade Saxons wandering the lands, but the city is secure. Sir Leon is in command of the knights there, under the Queen's authority."

Arthur sighed. "So, Guinevere's all right? She's safe?"

"Yes, sire. Perfectly safe."

This time it was Merlin who reached out to Arthur, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. He'd honestly forgotten all about Gwen in the confusion of the past several days. It was good to know she was safe and looking after Camelot in Arthur's absence. Merlin had a brief vision of what would have happened if Arthur hadn't survived. He saw a sad queen seated on Camelot's throne, trying to rule in the way her husband would have wanted, always honoring Arthur's memory. It sent a shiver down his spine as he realized how easily that vision could have become reality.

Merlin almost became lost in that image, mesmerized by the somber and serious Queen Guinevere, devoted ruler of Camelot, until Arthur's voice jolted Merlin back to the present. He seemed to have missed part of their conversation as he was lost in his own thoughts.

"As much as I am loath to admit it, Merlin's right," Arthur was saying when Merlin refocused in on the conversation at hand. "We really do need to find someplace safe for the night.

"I found your horses a ways back," Percival said, gesturing to the path he'd come from, where his own horse stood waiting. "We can make camp there and be ready to ride at first light."

Arthur grinned. "Then lead on."

* * *

By the time they had reached the horses and set up a small camp, the sun had completely set. The three of them sat around a small fire, eating a meager dinner cobbled together from the provisions Merlin had left in his saddlebags and the rations Percival had brought with him.

For the most part, they were a silent group, but Merlin couldn't help but note the difference between this comfortable, quiet atmosphere and the tension of the previous nights that he had spent looking after Arthur in strained, bitter silence.

It was only after Percival left to collect more wood, leaving Arthur lounging before the fire and Merlin with his back against a tree trunk, that Arthur broke the silence.

"Merlin does anyone else _know_?" Arthur asked, with a glance in the direction Percival had gone.

Merlin wanted to pretend he didn't know what Arthur was referring to. But he owned his friend more honesty than that.

"No," he said softly. "No. Gaius obviously knows, but other than that… no one knows."

Arthur snorted in disbelief. "Well, apparently Morgana did."

"Only recently. Mordred told her. Before that she knew nothing, never even suspected. I made sure of it."

"So, Mordred knew then." It wasn't even a question, more like an accusation, and Merlin saw immediately where this conversation was heading.

"Yes. But I didn't tell him. He just knew." Merlin shook his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He's always known."

"How?" Arthur's question was hard, his voice clipped and demanding.

"I don't know, Arthur, he just knew. He was a druid. They always seem to know these things. I don't know how."

It wasn't the answer Arthur wanted, or even an answer he understood, but he seemed to accept it.

"Okay. So, who else?"

Merlin sighed. Clearly Arthur wasn't going to let this go. "Some random druids. A few sorcerers, most of whom are dead either because they tried to kill you and I had to stop them, or because they tried to help me and paid for it with their lives." Merlin found the bitterness and self-recrimination welling up inside of him and had to take several deep breaths to calm himself. He didn't want to talk about this, but he understood why Arthur needed to know and he couldn't deny him, even if the answers would do little to restore Arthur's shaken trust in him.

"My mother knows, obviously." Merlin added, when he'd calmed his frustration. He was careful to look Arthur directly in the eyes as he continued, hoping Arthur would be able to read the honesty in his expression. Arthur's face was utterly unreadable.

"I was born with magic, Arthur. I started using it as a child, intuitively. I wasn't taught, I just…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I told Will when we were children, which made my mother furious. No one could know, she said. She was always reminding me that I couldn't reveal my secret. It's why she finally sent me away."

"To Camelot?" Arthur asked, both a request for clarification and a statement of disbelief.

Merlin actually chuckled. "I know it seems like a silly idea now, sending a warlock to a city that hates magic… but she knew Gaius could help me. And honestly, Ealdor's not much different. In some ways, it's worse. It's a simple village, and most people are scared of things they don't understand, things that are different than what they're used to. The fear of the unknown can lead normal people to do horrible things. I would have still been in danger, even if I'd stayed. And it's harder to hide in a village where everyone knows your name."

Arthur couldn't suppress a chuckle at the irony. "You do realize that probably half of the people in Camelot know your name?"

Merlin looked sheepish. "Well, they didn't when I first came."

For a moment, Merlin thought he'd distracted Arthur, but in some things the king was like a dog with a bone.

"So, no one else knows? No one in Camelot besides Gaius?"

"No. No one."

In the face of Arthur's impassive stare, Merlin squirmed, finally looking away, his gaze resting on the ground at his feet. He wanted to know what Arthur was thinking. Was he wondering who else had helped Merlin in his deception? Trying to root out any other traitors in his court? Surely, on some level, that was how Arthur must see Gaius's actions, as well as Merlin's.

He wanted to tell Arthur how lonely his life could be, surrounded by friends who could only know a small part of his life, only see the small part of himself that he allowed them to see. If Arthur was trying to discover Merlin's accomplice, his confidante, he wouldn't find one. There had been no one besides Gaius. Not since…

"Lancelot knew," Merlin said, barely above a whisper, voice tinged with grief even now at the thought of the noble knight. It was a long moment before Merlin met Arthur's eyes, but he was surprised by what he saw there: simple acceptance, understanding, even a bit of sympathy in Arthur's contemplative expression.

"That explains a lot actually," Arthur said. "You and Lancelot always were as thick as thieves."

"Are you two telling stories of the good old days?" Percival asked, startling them both as they had completely missed his approach. He dropped his armload of wood and settled down by the fire, poking at it with a stick. "I heard you talking about Lancelot?" The question was innocent enough, especially considering how close Percival and Lancelot had been. But Merlin found himself too stunned to speak.

"Sorry," Percival said, confused by the dead silence. "Did I miss something?"

Looking like a frightened deer, Merlin glanced nervously towards Arthur.

Arthur merely shrugged. "You'll have to tell him at some point, Merlin."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the king and I said so."

"That's never been a good enough reason for me to do anything before."

"Okay, than do it because I don't want you to have lie anymore," Arthur said seriously. Merlin was biting his lip nervously. "Merlin, things can't go back to the way they were. You have to see that. I won't stand for more lies. And… you shouldn't have to hide this. Not after everything you've done for Camelot."

Percival watched this exchange with interest, but said nothing. Merlin didn't want to do this, not now when Arthur had only recently accepted him. But deep down, he knew that Arthur was right; he couldn't keep hiding this.

With a deep breath for courage, Merlin looked Percival in the eye. Then, picking up a stick of wood and holding it vertically in front of him, he spoke softly.

"Leohtbora." Flame leapt from the end of the stick, lighting like a torch. Merlin smiled at the simplicity of the spell, one of the first he'd learned from Gaius's spellbook. He could perform it now with just a thought, but he spoke the incantation so that there could be no doubt.

Percival heard the words, saw the flame and the gold in his eyes, and Merlin knew there was no going back now.

"You have…" Percival stuttered on the words.

"Magic? Yes. I do." Merlin cast his new torch into the fire, allowing it be consumed by the flames.

No one spoke. Percival merely looked at Merlin, his mind seeming to whirl as he processed what he'd seen. Merlin waited.

Percival looked to Arthur, clearly searching for some guidance from the king as to how he should respond to this revelation. Arthur gave none.

And so it was after a long silence, just when Merlin thought he might explode from the tension, that Percival asked, "Lancelot knew, didn't he?"

That was the last thing Merlin had expected the knight to say.

"Apparently he did," Arthur replied, as Merlin was too dumbfounded to speak.

Percival nodded. "He always spoke highly of you, Merlin, even before we came to Camelot. And I knew he was curious about magic. He said that there must be good kinds of magic to offset the bad." Percival frowned. "But all I've ever seen is magic that brings pain and destruction."

Percival's words hit Merlin like a physical blow.

"It isn't always like that," he said, his voice breaking slightly.

"Maybe not. But it's dangerous," Percival replied.

Merlin didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't deny it. He could try to explain, to rationalize, to prove that magic could be wonderful as well as dangerous. But really, there were no words that could convince someone to change their beliefs, and while it seemed that Percival wasn't about to chop his head off, Merlin could see the mistrust in his eyes, could feel Percival sizing him up. Already the knight saw him differently. Merlin wondered if it would be like this with all of them, but then he mentally slapped himself. _No, Merlin. With the others it will probably be much worse._

"Listen," Arthur said, drawing their attention away from each other and towards himself. "No one could distrust magic more than I did. I still don't trust it, to be honest. But if there's one thing I've learned in the past few days, it's that what truly matters is a person's heart. Merlin may have a lot to answer for, but he's a good man and a loyal friend. Magic or no, I trust him with my life, and he's proven himself worthy of that trust countless times over. I don't know what that means for Camelot or for magic, but I do know that without Merlin's magic, there would be no Camelot."

The depth of conviction in Arthur's words surprised Merlin, but he felt a sense of immeasurable relief. Perhaps Arthur's faith in him wasn't as shaken as he'd feared. He turned to Arthur with a look of pure gratitude, hoping Arthur knew how much those words meant to him.

Percival seemed to consider Arthur's words carefully. "I understand, sire." He looked to Merlin. "I don't know if Lancelot was right about magic, but he might have been. And I know you'd never willingly harm Arthur or Camelot."

Merlin accepted his words with a tight smile. "Thank you, Percival. I've always considered you a friend. You have nothing to fear from me." A sense of awkwardness settled between them, both feeling uncertain as to how this would change their relationship.

"Good. Then that's that," Arthur said, dusting off his hands as he stood. Merlin almost rolled his eyes. Of course, Arthur would be oblivious and immune to the awkwardness. Arthur spread a blanket near the fire and lay down. "We should sleep. It will be a long ride back to Camelot tomorrow and I want to start at first light."

"Yes, sire," Percival replied.

They moved to follow Arthur's orders, but Merlin knew it would be a long night for him. Long after Arthur's breathing had evened out into sleep, he remained awake. Percival watched him from the opposite side of the fire for a time, as though he was keeping an eye on Merlin, just in case. Merlin pretended not to notice. He just sat there, leaning back against the tree. Eventually, Percival slept as well, but still Merlin remained awake.

It wasn't just his thoughts that kept him from sleeping, as worry ran circles in his mind. Even more than that, he felt the need to stay on guard duty, keeping an eye out for any roaming Saxons, rogue bandits, or other dangers lurking in the darkness. He couldn't afford to let something happen to Arthur because he'd allowed himself to relax.

So Merlin stubbornly stayed awake, keeping silent watch over his king against the dangers of the night.

* * *

Percival was awake late into the night thinking about Merlin's revelation. It worried him and confused him, but the more he thought about it, the more it began to make sense. It certainly explained the unique bond that Lancelot had shared with Merlin. There was a time when he'd been jealous of the servant. In his first days in Camelot, Lancelot had been Percival's only real friend, and yet he'd often found himself alone as Lancelot drew closer to Merlin. Now, he began to understand why. They must have bonded over shared secrets.

As he thought, he watched Merlin surreptitiously. He saw that Merlin didn't sleep, didn't even lie down for the night. For a moment, he actually wondered if Merlin was waiting until they were asleep so that he could enact some sort of secret plan, perhaps using magic to enchant them somehow. But as soon as he thought it, Percival brushed the thought away, embarrassed he'd even considered it. There wasn't a malicious bone in Merlin's body. Even if he did have magic, he couldn't possibly mean them any harm.

When even his thoughts tired him, Percival allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

He woke just before dawn to see that Merlin's exhaustion had finally claimed him as he lay slumped against his tree, fast asleep. Percival had to smile slightly at the sight. Asleep as he was, he certainly didn't look like a potentially dangerous sorcerer.

Quietly, Percival began preparing breakfast and packing up supplies, handing Arthur a plate of food when he eventually woke. He left Merlin alone, letting him sleep a little longer. Now that he looked at him, Percival could see the dark circles under his eyes.

When Arthur and Percival had both eaten, and the forest was beginning to warm with the morning sun, the king went to check on the horses, while Percival knelt down to wake Merlin. He laid a hand on the young man's shoulder, rousing him gently.

Merlin groaned slightly, but then his eyes snapped open, confused and startled.

Percival gave him a smile and handed him a plate. "Breakfast. Arthur's checking the horses and I was just about to pack up. We're heading out shortly."

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks," Merlin muttered, stretching out stiff muscles.

"Don't mention it." Percival returned to what he'd been doing, but he saw Merlin relax somewhat as he ate. When Merlin had finished, he came over to help, and Percival had to smile. There was no way someone as kind and considerate as Merlin could possibly be evil. Lancelot must have been right; there must be good magic to counteract the bad.

* * *

The trio rode all day, pushing the horses to make good time. When they finally reached the outskirts of Camelot, Arthur let out a sigh of relief. He had always loved Camelot; it was more than his home, it was his life. But he didn't think he'd ever been so relieved to see it before.

"Percival," Arthur said. "Ride on ahead. Let them know we're coming."

"Sire?"

"We'll be right behind you."

"Yes, sire."

As Percival's horse cantered ahead, Merlin brought his horse up beside Arthur's.

"You all right, sire?"

"Yes, Merlin. I'm fine."

Merlin cocked his head to stare at Arthur more closely.

"You sure?"

For a moment, Arthur said nothing. Then, still looking straight ahead, he said, "I have this strange feeling. Like somehow everything's ending." He shook his head. "I just can't believe it's over."

"But it isn't over, Arthur. Camelot's still standing and you're still here to rule it."

Arthur let his horse trot slowly down the path and Merlin followed at his side.

"I know. And believe me, I'm grateful," he said, hoping Merlin would understand that those two words were another _thank you_ in disguise. "But that's not quite what I meant. It's this war we've been fighting… this constant battle with Morgana. I feel like I've spent years in constant apprehension, just waiting for her next move. In the back of my mind I always wondered, every day, if this would be the day she'd strike back. And now, after all this time, this whole war is just… over."

"Oh." Merlin frowned. "You know, I hadn't really let that sink in yet."

"I know things won't necessarily be easy now, it's just… strange, I suppose, to think of her being gone. I should feel like a looming storm cloud has finally blown away, but instead I just feel sort of… empty… like I'm not sure what happens next." Arthur sighed. "And now I'm making even less sense than you usually do."

Arthur saw Merlin smile at the small shadow of their usual banter, but he responded seriously.

"Actually, I think it makes perfect sense. You say you've been fighting Morgana for years. But Arthur, I've been fighting this war since the day I came to Camelot. It wasn't always Morgana and Mordred, of course. First there was Nimueh and Morgause, and a host of others along the way…even your father some of the time. But it's always been about _this_." Merlin gestured vaguely between themselves and Camelot, but strangely enough Arthur understood what he meant. "All along, there have been forces working to undermine Camelot, to destroy the hopes you were trying to build. But now, those forces have lost, once and for all.

"There is no precedent for what we've done, Arthur. The battle of Camlann is over, Mordred's dead, you're alive, and Camelot still stands. We've defied an ancient prophecy, maybe even shifted the course of destiny.

"So, yes," Merlin continued. "Maybe this is an ending. But there's no reason it can't also be a new beginning."

Arthur smiled at him. "Now when did you become so wise?"

"I always was. You just choose not to notice most of the time."

They brought their horses to a stop at the gates of the city and Arthur took a deep breath.

"Well, we'd best we'd get on with it, I suppose," he said, straightening in his saddle as he prepared to march back into Camelot, trying to look like the triumphant king that his people needed him to be.

"After you, sire," Merlin signaled for Arthur to move ahead with a wave of his hand.

"Oh, I don't think so, Merlin. If this is a new beginning, we're walking into it together."

And, with one last look between them, Merlin and Arthur rode into the city side by side, heading straight to the citadel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes**:_ This is the longest chapter yet. Fair warning, I returned to a full (and insane) work schedule last week, which may affect the timeliness of updates. But I'm still greatly enjoying this happy little AU and working on some outlines for future chapters (I swear there's a plot developing...somewhere). I hope you all enjoy it as well. :) So, onwards to Camelot…_

* * *

Camelot was quiet this late in the day, but the few people on the streets stopped to stare in shock as their king rode calmly by.

Merlin knew that, on some level, Arthur hadn't truly expected to see Camelot again, and he seemed to be drinking up the sight of it now that they were here, quietly savoring the moment as they rode through the city. Still, he couldn't help but notice that Arthur gradually quickened the pace as they grew closer to the citadel; he was obviously eager to see Gwen and reassure himself that all was well.

As they emerged into the courtyard, trotting up to the palace entrance, Guinevere rushed down the front steps with Leon and Percival following closely behind. Arthur had barely brought his horse to a stop and dismounted before Gwen threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. They clung to each other tightly, and Merlin could see Gwen shaking with suppressed sobs.

Merlin tore his eyes away from the couple, giving them both a moment to compose themselves as he looked away, sliding out of his saddle and snatching up the abandoned reins of Arthur's horse. He led both horses aside and handed them off to a stable hand with a quick nod and a muttered thank you.

When he turned back, the king and queen had hardly moved. Arthur still held Gwen tightly against him as she gasped, trying to hold back tears of relief.

"You're alive," she whispered. "I never gave up hope, but all I could think was that I'd never see you again and…"

"Shhh." Arthur stroked her hair gently. "I'm fine, Guinevere." He drew back to look at her. "See? I'm fine." He reached out to brush her cheek with one hand, wiping away a few stray tears. Then he bent down to kiss her tenderly, holding her close.

"I love you," she said softly.

"And I love you. More than you know," Arthur replied. Gwen's smile lit up her entire face, her joy infectious. She kept her eyes on Arthur and gave him another deep, lingering kiss. This time, when they parted, Gwen took a step backwards and, with one last smile to Arthur, she turned aside to face the others.

"And you," she said, turning to Merlin, whose eyes widened in surprise as Gwen pulled him into a hug. He quickly glanced at Arthur before returning Gwen's embrace. She gave him a tight squeeze, then let go and looked up at him with the same joyous smile. "I will never be able to thank you enough for what you've done, Merlin."

He tensed slightly, but put on an innocently clueless smile, one he'd practiced many times over the years. Gwen had never called him on it before.

"Oh, you know me, my lady. I was just doing my duty," he said lightly, feeling strangely uncomfortable under the queen's gaze.

"Yes, Merlin. I do know you." She looked him in the eyes, her voice serious. "I know you better than you think."

As her words sunk in, Merlin knew he was about two seconds away from panicking. Again. He wasn't ready for this, didn't want to face it. His mind, working on long-ingrained habits, was already whirling for some excuse, some _lie_ to put her off. But Gwen reached out and grasped his hand, holding him in place.

"I mean it, Merlin. Thank you. And I'm so glad to see you both well."

Merlin could only stare at his oldest friend as she smiled up at him, until he realized she was right. She really did _know_ him. And there was no anger there, no suspicion, only genuine affection born out of years of friendship.

The fear evaporated as he felt his own happiness bubbling up inside of him. Merlin took the hand that still held onto his own and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently.

"Never have I been so proud to call you my queen… and my friend."

Gwen blushed at his praise, but she also squeezed his hand. "I'm pleased, Merlin. And grateful."

He nodded. "Me too."

They both suddenly became aware of the three men watching them curiously, and Merlin would have been embarrassed if he wasn't so incredibly happy. Arthur reached for Guinevere, drawing her back to his side and wrapping an arm around her waist. Merlin, cast a look at Leon and Percival, seeing confusion there, but it was quickly dismissed, as neither of the knights seemed capable of understanding what had just happened. Merlin had to resist the urge to laugh.

It was Leon who finally broke the moment, addressing Arthur. "Sire, it's a relief to see you alive."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you, Leon. I'll admit, it was a bit doubtful there for a while."

Leon hesitated for a moment before asking what was clearly on his mind. "And Morgana… is she really dead?"

"Yes," Arthur said, sneaking a look at Merlin. "She is."

"Then we have truly won," Leon said solemnly. It was a staggering realization for them all, and Merlin supposed it would take a while for the reality of their situation to sink in.

"And what of Camelot? Is the city secure?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, sire. Our forces returned to Camelot after the battle was won," Leon said. "Most of our troops remain in the city and at the ready. I have several patrols scouting the outskirts of the city, as well as the plains around Camlann. They have orders to engage with any Saxon renegades they find. At the very least, we should be able to drive the remaining Saxons up north."

Arthur nodded. "And the men?"

Leon instinctively knew what Arthur was asking, and nodded sadly. "There were casualties, of course, but… it was not as bad as I had expected. I can have the official lists brought to you whenever you're ready."

For a moment, King Arthur looked as though he felt the full weight of his kingship resting on his shoulders. He took a deep breath, silently mourning all of those who had died for him and his kingdom.

It gave Merlin pause as he looked around them, a sudden horrifying thought seizing hold of him.

"Wait…" he said. "Where's Gaius?"

Gwen immediately saw where his thoughts had taken him and rushed to head them off.

"No, Merlin, Gaius is fine, I swear. He's with Gwaine at the moment."

Merlin took a deep breath. For a moment he'd thought….

"How is Gwaine?" Percival asked. His voice was heavy with regret and something akin to grief.

"There's been no change," Leon replied, shaking his head.

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked.

He saw the guilt flash across Percival's face. "When we went after Morgana," he began haltingly, "we couldn't stop her… I was knocked out, but when I woke… Morgana had taken Gwaine. She tortured him for information. That's how she knew where the two of you were heading."

"Gaius says that his condition hasn't worsened since you brought him back to Camelot," Gwen added. "But he still shows no signs of waking. There's little else Gaius can do but wait."

"No," Merlin muttered. "That can't be right." He turned to face Percival. "What were you thinking going to confront Morgana? How could you act so foolishly?" Percival flinched at the accusation, but Merlin took no notice.

"Merlin," Arthur said, the warning clear in his voice. But his tone barely penetrated Merlin's thoughts. Merlin's mind was spinning and his heart pounding as he turned away, his flash of anger doing little to mask his worry. They'd come so far, been through so much… but Merlin didn't know that he could take one more loss. Certainly not like this.

"I have to go," Merlin said, his feet already carrying him towards the castle entrance. "Maybe I can do something…"

This time it was Arthur's hand that restrained him. "Merlin…"

"Don't try to stop me," Merlin said, his voice low. He tried to pull away, but Arthur's grip remained firm on his arm.

"I'm not. But Merlin, are you sure you're up for this?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're exhausted and you're not thinking clearly and," he paused, frowning, "from the sounds of things, there may not be anything that you can do.

The soft, worried tone was not what Merlin had expected. He'd thought Arthur was going to object to him using magic, even to heal a friend. But apparently, that wasn't it at all. On some level, Arthur was actually _concerned_ for _him_. That was enough to make him slow down just a bit, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"I know that. I do. But, please, Arthur. I have to try."

Arthur nodded. "All right. Go. We'll be there shortly."

Merlin didn't hesitate, taking the steps two at a time, and hoping that he wouldn't have to bury yet another friend.

He nearly flew up the stairway and to the tower in a matter of minutes. He burst into Gaius's chambers, throwing the door open with a bit more force than was strictly necessary. It was enough to make Gaius jump out of his seat at the table.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed, rushing over to him. He'd pulled Merlin into a hug before he had a chance to say two words, but then Gaius quickly drew back to look Merlin over, clearly assessing him for any signs of injury or, perhaps more significantly, any sense of defeat or despair that he might find in Merlin's eyes. Apparently, he saw neither. For a long moment, they simply looked at one another, both painfully aware that Merlin's next words would alter their lives irrevocably.

Merlin didn't even know where to start. But he didn't need to, as Gaius was in no mood to be patient.

"Merlin, are you all right? What happened?" Gaius asked, his hands still resting on Merlin's shoulders.

"It's a long story, Gaius. A really long story." Gaius looked at him pointedly, one eyebrow raised. "I couldn't…" Merlin started, then stopped. "Arthur's…" Merlin shook his head as he tried again. "He's alive, Gaius. We… it was so close." Gaius patted his back, silently encouraging him to continue. "Morgana found us, and I… I stopped her. But I couldn't save Arthur, and we weren't going to make it to Avalon, so I called Kilgharrah. In the end, he saved Arthur, not me."

Gaius couldn't hide his surprise as he thought through what Merlin said. "But that would mean…"

Merlin nodded. "Yes, he sacrificed himself for Arthur. Because he knew it was what I wanted." There was no way Gaius could miss the grief and guilt in Merlin's voice. Even now, Merlin wished Kilgharrah's sacrifice hadn't been necessary, but he was too grateful to wish it undone. And he felt guilty for that too.

"But then, where's Arthur?" Gaius asked.

"With Gwen," Merlin said, waving a hand vaguely back the direction he'd come from. "He's fine. At least, I think he's fine. You should probably check him out. But first, where's Gwaine? Percival said he was injured, that Morgana did something to him." Merlin glanced around wildly, searching for the injured knight. If it was as serious as they claimed, he must have been taken to Gaius's chambers.

"I had him moved to your room so I could keep an eye on him," Gaius said. Merlin nodded in understanding, ready to move until Gaius stopped him. "Merlin, he hasn't woken."

Which was a bad thing, Merlin knew – possibly a very bad thing.

"What did Morgana do to him?"

Gaius hesitated, but he understood that Merlin needed to know. "It was a nathair."

It felt as though all the air had suddenly been sucked out of Merlin's lungs. Of course, Morgana would stop at nothing to find Arthur. But Merlin always felt his heart clench when he thought of magic being used to inflict pain in such unspeakable ways.

"But I don't understand," Merlin said, struggling with his words. "When Morgana used the nathair against Elyan… he survived. What's different this time?"

Gaius sighed. "It's hard to say, Merlin. Her magic has grown since then; perhaps she had more control over the nathair's power. Regardless, Morgana was determined and Gwaine is stubborn. You know he wouldn't have given in easily."

"Well, I'm not giving up either." Merlin turned and stalked off to his own room, taking the stairs quickly. He stopped at the sight before him, Gwaine lying on his bed, so still and silent. Gwaine was never this silent.

Merlin moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking Gwaine over and trying to get a sense of his injuries. The strange part was that his wounds didn't seem that severe, not enough to reduce him to this, wasting away in his sleep.

The sound of footsteps signaled that Gaius had followed him. "I've tried everything I can think of," Gaius said softly. "But his injuries are beyond my power to cure."

Merlin nodded in acceptance, already reaching out with his magic to assess Gwaine's condition.

"Can anything be done?" Arthur's voice caused both Merlin and Gaius to jump. They turned quickly to see the king standing in the doorway with Gwen still at his side. Both Percival and Leon hovered in the background, looking equally worried for their friend.

Gaius looked at Arthur, overjoyed at seeing the king alive and whole, but Arthur didn't even spare him a glance, keeping his gaze firmly on Merlin.

"I'm not entirely sure what's wrong," Merlin said. "But…" Merlin trailed off, suddenly acutely aware of his audience. But Arthur nodded and Merlin found himself focusing on only two things: Arthur wanted him to use magic and Gwaine needed his help.

Focusing all of his attention on the injured knight, Merlin took a deep breath. He placed both hands over Gwaine's chest and felt the magic flood through his veins.

"Ic þe þurhhæle þin līcāre." Merlin's eyes turned gold as the magic flowed from his hands and into Gwaine's body. Distantly, Merlin thought he heard Gwen gasp.

But all he saw before him was Gwaine, still as death. He waited a moment, knowing that healing magic was not always instantaneous. But even as he waited, he knew that something wasn't right. This was the work of dark magic, not a physical injury. Which meant a traditional healing spell might not be enough.

He looked up and saw that Arthur and Gwen were standing against the near wall, while Percival and Leon watched from the door. He blocked out the look of utter shock on Sir Leon's face, the confusion, the slight look of… betrayal? Fear? Disgust? Merlin didn't want to know what it was. He focused on Percival instead.

"I need to know everything you can tell me about what happened to him."

Percival frowned. "I already told you… Morgana… she… I don't know anything else. I heard him screaming. When I got there Morgana was gone and he was barely conscious."

"But he was awake," Merlin pressed. "Was he aware of his surroundings? Did he say anything?" Percival still frowned in confusion. "Percival this is important. I need to know."

"He said," Percival took a breath. "He said that he failed. That's it. He lost consciousness right after I got to him and I brought him straight to Camelot."

Merlin swore under his breath, cursing Morgana for what she'd done.

"Merlin, what are you thinking?" Gaius asked.

"That not all wounds are physical or visible to the eye." He saw Gaius frown, and caught a glimpse of Arthur's curious gaze, but he turned back to Gwaine.

Gathering his thoughts, Merlin began working on a different spell, putting all of his energy and determination into the words.

"Tō þisne mōde ic forgiefe frið."

Again, he felt the magic flow into Gwaine, but this time it left Merlin feeling drained. He hoped that was a good sign. He only had to wait a moment to find out, as Gwaine's eyes slowly opened. The knight groaned, his bleary-eyed gaze settling on the person closest to him.

"Merlin?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"Gwaine." Merlin smiled. "You just can't keep yourself out of trouble, can you?"

"Nah, you know me." Gwaine closed his eyes against the light, frowning in discomfort. "Where've you been? Haven't seen you since the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

"Yeah, I had some stuff to do. I should tell you though, I kind of lost your sword."

"I'll get another." Gwaine's eyes opened again. "Merlin," Gwaine's voice dropped to a broken whisper. "I think it's my fault. I'm sorry… but Arthur's dead because of me."

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, angry at the self-recrimination in Gwaine's voice. But he never had the chance.

"Sir Gwaine, if I ever hear you speak like that again, I'll have you thrown in the stocks." Arthur's voice startled Gwaine, forcing him to shift his focus from Merlin to the figure who now stood at the other side of his bed.

"Arthur?"

"Yes," the king said, more softly. "So first off, I'm not dead. And second… it was never your fault. I know you would use every last ounce of strength to protect me. Whatever happened, you did not fail me. You never could."

"But how…"

Arthur shrugged. "Magic."

Merlin nearly choked, but no one seemed to notice.

Gwaine simply looked puzzled, as though he was trying to work out if Arthur was making some odd sort of joke. The effort seemed to exhaust him and he clearly had difficulty keeping his eyes open.

Arthur relented, giving Gwaine a pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it at the moment. Just rest for now."

Even if Gwaine wanted to object, he wouldn't have been able to, as he was already drifting off to sleep.

"Will he be all right?" Arthur asked.

Merlin looked up at him and nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he was suddenly painfully aware that all eyes were focused on him.

"Good." Arthur said, letting out a sigh. He leaned back against the wall, looking as exhausted as Merlin felt.

"Are _you_ all right?" Merlin asked.

Arthur glared slightly in response.

"You keep asking me that, Merlin. You're starting to sound worse than a nagging nursemaid."

Merlin ignored the insult. After all, he'd heard worse. "Arthur, let Gaius look you over. He needs to check that wound."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm fine, you idiot. How many times do I have to tell you?"

Somehow, Arthur's stubbornness annoyed Merlin more than the silly insults and he felt his temper flare.

"No, Arthur, technically speaking, you're not fine. You almost died yesterday. You were minutes from death, so don't tell me you're fine." He saw Gwen stiffen at the thought of Arthur's brush with death and Merlin instantly regretting his words. Lowering his voice, he tried again. "Just let Gaius check you out, as a precaution. Please?"

They stared at one another for a long time, each challenging the other, before Arthur finally nodded.

"All right. Fine. You keep an eye on Gwaine while I talk with Gaius."

"Thank you," Merlin said.

The king rolled his eyes, but followed Gaius back into the main room, Gwen hovering at his side each step of the way.

Merlin watched them go, then looked back to Gwaine. He would be weak for several days, but he would recover. Seeing Arthur had probably helped; Gwaine needed to see living proof that he hadn't failed the king. He'd spent days wrapped in guilt, as the dark magic of the nathair twisted his mind and tormented his spirit. Merlin shuddered slightly. Some things were worse than physical pain. He knew that only too well. While Gwaine might still struggle with lingering guilt, at least now he was free from the grip of dark magic and heart-wrenching despair.

"Merlin," Percival spoke quietly, now standing at Merlin's side. "I'll sit with him. You could use some rest yourself."

Merlin nodded and stood, as Percival moved a chair to the bedside and settled down to watch over his friend.

Merlin made it as far as the doorway, stumbled slightly, then sunk down to sit on the last step. He decided he might as well stay there, quietly surveying the physician's chambers. Arthur was sitting at the table, enduring a thorough interrogation from Gaius. Merlin suspected that only Gwen's grip on his hand kept Arthur's impatience in check.

From his current perch on the step, Merlin could keep an eye on everyone, but to be honest, he felt too tired to move. He dropped his head into his hands, rubbing at his eyes to push away the weariness.

"Here," Leon said, startling Merlin yet again. Leon held out a cup of water. Merlin raised an eyebrow, but Leon just offered a weak smile in response. "You look like you could do with something stronger, but I doubt Gaius would approve."

Merlin chuckled. "Yeah, you're probably right." He took the cup and drank gratefully. When he'd finished, he set the cup on the step beside him and turned to survey Sir Leon. The knight looked a bit uncomfortable, but he made no move to back away, gave no sign that Merlin's presence caused him any unreasonable amount of concern. Merlin was half-surprised he hadn't called the castle guards by now.

"Are you angry," he asked hesitantly. "About what I did?"

Leon seemed surprised by the question, but he didn't pretend to misunderstand.

"No. Why would I be?" Merlin waited Leon out, and the knight continued with a sigh. "You forget, Merlin, that I've been healed by magic myself. It would be hypocritical of me to condemn you for such an act when I owe my own life to magic."

To be honest, Merlin _had_ forgotten. Now he recalled how the druids had healed Leon from a mortal wound years ago, before Morgana's first occupation of Camelot. At the time, Leon had seemed uncomfortable discussing it, though that was understandable, since King Uther had been furious to learn that one of his best knights had been saved by magic. Still, Leon hadn't exactly given the answer Merlin needed.

"But what if I'd used magic to do other things?" Merlin asked cautiously. "To kill, even?"

Leon kept his voice calm and direct. "That's war, Merlin. And killing is killing, whether you use magic or a sword."

His words made sense, but Merlin was also confused. Of all of the knights, Leon was the one most likely to hate magic. He'd been raised in Camelot. He'd served Uther. Merlin had a hard time believing he could react so calmly.

Seeing his hesitation, Leon placed a hand on his shoulder and continued. "Arthur and Gwaine are both alive because of what you've done. You saved their lives. I, for one, do not care what means you used to do so. I only care that they are alive." He smiled reassuringly at Merlin. "You and I have one thing in common. We would both ride into the mouth of hell for Arthur. As far as I'm concerned, your loyalty to the king is the only thing that matters."

Leon smiled one last time and then walked over to join Arthur and Gwen. When Merlin looked up, he saw that Arthur had been watching them closely. Their eyes locked, and Merlin got the impression that Arthur had been keeping an eye on him, as though he felt the need to monitor the knight's reactions to the newly revealed sorcerer.

Arthur broke eye contact as he turned to answer another question from Gaius, and Merlin let out a deep breath. He looked around the room again, surveying the people surrounding him, and shaking his head in shock.

Everyone knew.

He had a feeling he would wake up tomorrow feeling as though the sun had grown brighter, as though the whole world had opened up before him and his dreams were all about to become reality. But for now, he was too stunned to really believe his good fortune. After so long, all of this seemed like too much to hope for and a small, frightened part of him was just waiting for something to go horribly wrong.

Considering his history in Camelot, Merlin knew that sooner or later, someone or something would decide to screw with his life. But whatever the next disaster would be, he sincerely hoped it could wait until morning.

* * *

By the time Arthur had answered every possible question and Gaius had finally pronounced him perfectly healthy, Gwen had ordered a servant to bring a full dinner to Gaius's chambers. Percival wasn't leaving Gwaine's side, and no one else seemed in a hurry to leave either, so it had seemed like the best course of action. Besides, it was clear they all had plenty to discuss.

Of course, that discussion would apparently have to take place without Merlin, who was currently sacked out asleep on the spare cot in the corner of the room.

Arthur had kept an eye on him as he talked with Leon, worrying slightly about how Leon would handle the revelation of Merlin's magic. Arthur wanted Merlin to handle this on his own. It was his secret, and he deserved to tell their friends himself. But that didn't mean that Arthur wasn't ready to jump in and back up his friend if the need arose.

Yet Merlin had apparently handled it just fine. If anything, Leon seemed to be taking the whole thing in stride. Arthur shouldn't have been surprised. Of all of his knights, Leon was the most level-headed, the calmest, and the one most likely to think before he acted. It was one of the many reasons that Arthur had relied on him for all of these years.

And now, Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, and Leon all sat around Gaius's table eating together, for once ignoring the formalities of rank and station. Leon and Gwen updated Arthur on all that had gone on in Camelot, including Eira's treason and execution. In turn, Arthur explained what had happened to him after the battle of Camlann. He left out some of the details, of course, glossing over a good deal of his interaction with Merlin, but it was enough to tell them that Merlin had been determined to save him, and had forced him to rethink most of his life in the process.

Eventually, they all sat in quiet contemplation and Arthur found his gaze returning to Merlin.

"Gaius, are you sure he's all right?" Arthur asked, nodding to where Merlin still slept.

Gaius had to smile at Arthur's concern, knowing that only a few days ago, Arthur had refused to even speak to Merlin. "I'm sure he's just tired, Arthur. And I suspect that healing Gwaine didn't help matters any. Just let him sleep, for now."

Arthur frowned. "Does using magic always tire him like this?"

"Not usually, no, although it would depend on the spell and how long Merlin tried to maintain it. If I'm right, Merlin probably hasn't slept in days. And if he was already exhausted, the healing spell might have pushed him too far."

Arthur shook his head, feeling muddled and confused. "I'm starting to realize that I know almost nothing about magic. Nothing practical that is." He rubbed one hand down his face, feeling for all the world like his entire life had been turned upside down. "I suppose from now on, that will have to change."

Gaius nodded. "Yes, Arthur. It will." He smiled in that fatherly way that Arthur remembered from when he was a boy. That smile had always put Arthur at ease, reassuring him that all was well. "But you don't have to learn any more tonight. There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow and the day after that."

"He's right," Guinevere said. "I'm sure there will be much to discuss in the coming days. But for now, Arthur, the most important thing is that Camelot is safe, Gwaine will recover, Merlin is well, and you have been returned to us."

Arthur smiled at his wife and leaned in to give her a quick kiss.

"You're right, as always."

Gwen stood, holding out her hand to Arthur. "Come on, Arthur. Let's leave Gaius in peace. We should all get some rest. Everything else will work itself out in the morning."

They all agreed. Leon excused himself, Arthur and Gwen retired for the evening, and Gaius even convinced Percival to leave for the night, assuring him that Gwaine would be fine and he could return in the morning to check on him.

Before Gaius retired, he checked on his patient one last time, seeing that Gwaine was sleeping deeply. But before he lay down for the night, Gaius noted that Merlin's sleep was not so peaceful. The young man seemed disturbed, fidgeting in his sleep and breathing irregularly, with his eyes rolling behind closed lids. Gaius moved to his side, retrieving an old quilt and spreading it out over him. He silently wished that whatever nightmares plagued Merlin would, for once, simply take the night off.

Coming to a quick decision, Gaius leaned over Merlin, speaking in a low voice, "slæp īn frið." Merlin stilled, his breath evening out. Gaius smiled and hoped the simple enchantment would grant Merlin a peaceful sleep, if only for a short while.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes**: _This chapter got out of hand. Then it got split into two chapters. I'm still wrangling the next part into shape. And this is why I don't like posting stories I haven't completed yet. *sigh*  
_

* * *

Gwaine's first thought was that he must have had an awfully good time at the tavern last night if the fogginess in his head was anything to go by. It wouldn't be the first time he'd woken up hung over and without any memory of how he'd gotten that way.

But that thought lasted only a minute. His next thought was that he must be dead. Or dying. And that whatever had happened to him, he probably deserved it.

He felt awful. More awful than a night of drinking could reasonably account for. That could mean only one thing. He only felt this awful after a battle of some sort – the kind of battle that ended with a ragged band of bloodied knights retreating in scattered groups and leaving behind the broken bodies of their fellow soldiers.

There had been too much of that lately. Ever since Ismere. There had been too much defeat, too many deaths, too many nights spent drinking to the memory of fallen comrades. Elyan's death still felt like an open wound, and it was all the worse for the memories it brought back of Lancelot's death years before. Gwaine was acutely aware of how their little band had dwindled.

Once upon a time, before Arthur had placed his round table in the grant hall, there had been only five of them. The original knights of the round table. Arthur's inner circle. A small, merry band of fresh young knights, a mixture of commoners and nobleman (though which category Gwaine belonged to was still a closely guarded secret). They'd been bound together by Arthur's belief that they could build a better world where fairness and justice actually meant something. They'd been knighted around an old stone table in a ruined castle, where they'd pledged to do the impossible and take back a kingdom. They'd been brothers in arms. A tight-knit group bound together by fate.

And now that group was reduced to three. Perhaps it was why they'd been so quick to embrace Mordred, especially in the wake of Elyan's death. While they were always friendly with the other knights – sparing with them, laughing, joking, fighting and bleeding with them – the inner circle remained, even as it shrunk in size. And on some level, they'd all felt the need to add others into their somewhat-less-than-merry band, as if it would somehow make up for the loss of Lancelot and Elyan. And so, almost without anyone noticing, Mordred joined the group.

And look at how that had turned out.

Gwaine remembered now; he remembered why he felt so bloody awful. They'd defeated Mordred's army and they'd won the battle of Camlann, but at a price. And this time it wasn't Lancelot or Elyan who had paid that price; it was Arthur.

But, no. Wait. That couldn't be right.

He'd thought Arthur was dead. He remembered thinking it. He'd been sure of it, in fact. He'd felt utterly wretched, as though the weight of his guilt and failure was eating him alive from the inside out, gnawing at his organs and chipping away at his bones, until he wanted nothing more than to die.

But he hadn't died. And now that wretched despair was gone. He felt bruised, sore, and weak, but that was all. And the last thing he remembered was Merlin looking at him with that goofy half-grin of his, as Arthur said that everything was fine, that he should stop worrying and just get some sleep.

Gwaine almost laughed as he thought about it. Arthur was alive. Somehow, he was alive, and he'd returned to Camelot with Merlin in tow, just like the good old times.

As Gwaine finally took in his surroundings, he realized he was in Merlin's bed, in his tiny room off of Gaius's quarters. The realization made him laugh again, reminding him of how this whole story had started, years ago when he got into a bar fight and woke up in Camelot to learn that he'd saved the life of the crown prince. Who could have imagined it would all lead to this.

In his elation, Gwaine momentarily forgot that he still felt a little bit awful. Sitting up suddenly, he groaned as his head pounded forcefully and the room began to spin. He closed his eyes and waited for it to stop. Then, much more cautiously, he urged his legs over the side of the bed until his bare feet touched the floor. Slowly and carefully, he managed to stand, making his way to the door with deliberate steps, keeping one hand on the wall for balance. He only stumbled twice, which he thought was pretty good, all things considered, though he also stubbed his toe once, swearing colorfully in response.

This really was worse than the standard hangover.

By the time he'd successfully opened the door and navigated his way down the steps (a painfully long time later), he'd made enough commotion to attract Gaius's attention, and the old man came to his side with a patient smile.

"I see you're awake and making a valiant effort at remaining upright."

Gwaine wanted to come back with an equally sarcastic retort, but was too focused on keeping himself from collapsing, so he merely waved a hand dismissively at the physician. Gaius helped him to sit at the table and placed a cup of water in front of him.

"Drink this, and I'll be back in a minute." Gwaine did as he was told, enjoying the feel of cool water on his dry throat.

When Gaius returned, he had a plate of food and a small vial of liquid that Gwaine was sure would taste something like horse urine.

"Drink this," Gaius said, "and you should feel better. Then we'll see if we can get some food into you."

Gwaine was tempted to refuse, except he wanted his head to stop pounding, so in the end he accepted the liquid and drank it as quickly as he could, coughing on the bitter aftertaste.

"Why is the cure always worse than the disease," he grumbled.

Gaius let out a snort of amusement. "You're welcome."

Gwaine responded with a small smile. He had to admit, he was starting to feel better already. And, he realized, he was surprisingly hungry. He quickly dove into the plate of food like a starving man. Which, he supposed, he probably was. But he didn't think he'd ever had bread that tasted this good before.

"Now, now, slow down before you choke. I swear you're as bad as Merlin, most of the time." Gaius pulled the plate across the table, stopping Gwaine before he could reach for a second slice of bread. "You haven't eaten in several days, and if you don't take things slowly, it will just come right back up." Gwaine gave him a petulant look, to which Gaius was apparently immune. Gwaine should have learned by now that Gaius was skilled at ignoring his patients' whining. Perhaps it came from treating a young prince's childhood illnesses. Somehow, Gwaine was sure that little prince Arthur had been a horrible patient.

The reminder of the missing king made Gwaine nervous. He was sure he'd talked with Arthur, but he still needed to know for certain that it hadn't been some sort of fever dream or delusion of grief. Hesitantly, he looked at the physician.

"Gaius, before, when I woke up… I might have dreamt it, but I thought I saw…"

"Arthur?" Gaius said. "You did. He was here last night. He and Merlin returned yesterday. And yes, before you ask, they are both perfectly fine."

"Oh." Gwaine wasn't sure what to say to that. "Where are they?"

"I sent Arthur off last night to get some sleep. It's not even mid-morning yet, so I assume he's in his chambers with Guinevere. And Merlin, well…" Gaius pointed to something behind Gwaine. When he turned, he found Merlin sleeping on a cot in the corner of the room.

Gwaine sighed in relief. Merlin wouldn't be here if Arthur was still in any danger. Everyone knew that the servant was utterly devoted to his king.

"I was afraid I'd dreamt it," Gwaine admitted.

Gaius smiled warmly. "No, it wasn't a dream. Trust me. You needn't worry; everyone is fine."

Nodding in acceptance, Gwaine returned to his breakfast, eating more slowly this time. When he said nothing, Gaius continued. "I expect Percival will be by to check up on you, sooner or later. I had to shoo him out of here."

Gwaine wasn't terribly surprised. Percival probably felt guilty for what Morgana had done to him. He shouldn't, of course. It had been Gwaine's idea to follow Morgana. He'd known it was foolish. But at the time he'd been too angry to care. Worried for Arthur and still stung by Eira's deception, Gwaine had wanted to feel as though he was doing something to make it all right. Of course, he'd done no good at all. In the end, it had been Gwaine's stupid idea, and he had paid the price for that stupidity.

He pushed aside those thoughts now, trying to avoid the memories of Morgana and of pain that haunted him, flitting just outside his consciousness.

A low moan shook Gwaine from his thoughts. He and Gauis both turned in the direction of the noise. Over in the corner, Merlin stirred, moving restlessly, making a pained noise and burying his face in the pillow as though he was trying to block out the world. Gwaine wondered if maybe he wasn't the only one bothered by unpleasant memories.

Gaius frowned and was about to say something, when Merlin jerked agitatedly in his sleep. The motion caused him to fall off the cot, hitting the floor with a thud that brought him to full wakefulness. Merlin leapt to his feet, throwing out his hand as if to protect himself from some unseen attacker.

A bang caused all three of them to jump as glass shattered and Gwaine saw broken crystal rain to the floor, cascading down from a shelf on the far side of the room.

When the shock subsided, Merlin stood in the middle of the room, looking around wildly in confusion. His gaze landed on Gaius and Gwaine, but then darted quickly to the mess of glass shards now littering the floor beneath Gauis's shelves.

Gauis sighed, sounding mildly exasperated, but Gwaine barely noticed. He was too busy staring at Merlin as though he was a stranger. And maybe he was.

Gwaine looked between the shattered glass on the floor and Merlin, standing ten feet away, looking startled.

Slowly the pieces began to come together in Gwaine's mind. Merlin had broken that glass. He hadn't touched it, hadn't even been near it. But he'd broken it. Without so much as blinking. With nothing more than a raised hand.

Gwaine knew magic when he saw it. But he'd never expected to see it from Merlin.

* * *

Arthur woke slowly, basking in the comfort of his own bed as the late morning sun warmed the room. He was quite convinced that he could happily stay here all day. If he had still been a prince, he may have tried to do just that. But duty had long since taught him that such comforts were meant to be enjoyed for a moment, and then cast aside as he rose to meet the day.

Still, a few more minutes couldn't hurt, could they?

He felt someone lightly brush their fingers through his hair and he smiled lazily, opening his eyes to see Guinevere sitting on the bed and staring down at him.

"Good morning," she said sweetly.

Arthur smiled. Three years of marriage and he still loved waking up to his wife's beautiful voice every morning.

Unfortunately, this morning the moment didn't last, as memories of the past few days slowly floated to the surface of his mind.

Arthur groaned, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow. He could hear Guinevere's amusement in her voice.

"So… not a good morning, then?"

He peaked out from his pillow. "Please tell me that the last week has been a strange dream resulting from some bad wine?"

Gwen chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not." She leaned down to kiss him deeply. "Does that make it better?" she asked, when she finally pulled away.

"Mmm. Much."

"Good. Because I, for one, have never been so glad to wake up in the morning. You're home and whole. That is all that matters."

"I suppose it should be," Arthur replied, his tone less than convincing.

"Arthur, what's troubling you? We've won. Neither Morgana nor Mordred will ever trouble us again. Their forces are scattered. Camelot is finally safe."

Arthur nodded. "And my servant is actually a sorcerer who has been lying to me for as long as I've known him."

There was a long pause as they both seemed to consider their situation. Arthur pushed himself up so that he sat leaning against the headboard, staring blankly ahead as he tried to sort through his thoughts.

"What do you plan to do?" Guinevere asked.

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know. I really don't know."

"Arthur, he's your friend. And he's my friend as well. He has stood by you through everything. You can't punish him for that."

"I know." He looked at Gwen and saw her uncertainty. "I know, Guinevere. Believe me, I know. If I'd found out a year ago or even a few months ago, I probably would have… I don't know, thrown him in the nearest dungeon or banished him from Camelot or something. But now…" He let out a frustrated breath. "Over the past few days, on the way to Avalon, I watched him. I told him to leave me, but he wouldn't. I rejected him. I accused him of… so many things. But as I watched him, it felt like I was seeing him for the first time. I watched him use magic as if it were as natural for him as breathing. Hell, for all I know, maybe it is."

Gwen held his hand, lacing her fingers between his. She didn't say anything, just let Arthur keep talking.

"We were found by a group of Saxons. Merlin tried to convince them that we weren't worth their notice, but they knew. They saw my sword. And when Merlin couldn't talk his way out of it, he just… threw them aside, without even uttering a word. As if it was the easiest thing in the world. Later he used magic to cover our tracks, to lead away a patrol that was following our trail.

"It's strange, but all I could think was that he must have done this before. All of it. And I started to think of all those close calls over the years, all the times some attacking bandits suddenly lost their footing or dropped a sword, or some distraction arose at the perfect moment. Every time when luck seemed to be on our side." He stared into Gwen's eyes, hoping for answers. "Was all of that Merlin?"

She had no answers for him; he didn't really expect any.

"He must have used magic so many times, right in front of me. And I was too blind to see it. And my father…" Arthur scoffed. "Gods, if he'd found out, Merlin would have been dead in an instant. But if Merlin's really had magic all this time, then it's not just me. He was using magic right under my father's nose, even knowing the danger he was in."

Gwen frowned, and Arthur recognized her expression. It was her thinking face, the one she put on when she had something important to say, but wanted to be careful to say it properly. When she hesitated a moment too long, he squeezed her hand.

"What is it?" he asked.

"When you mentioned your father, it reminded me of something. Something that I haven't had time to ask Gaius about just yet." Arthur nodded encouragingly. "Ever since I realized who that sorcerer from the battle really was, I've been thinking… Arthur, that sorcerer… the old man…we've both seen him before, when your father was dying and…"

His face paled. Gwen didn't need to continue because suddenly, Arthur knew.

He shook his head. "No. No, I won't believe it. There has to be some explanation. Merlin would never… not willingly."

Gwen quickly grasped his other hand, squeezing gently, forcing Arthur to focus. "No, he wouldn't. Maybe it was an accident. I don't know what really happened, but we both know that Merlin isn't capable of murder."

But that was the problem. Arthur no longer knew what Merlin was capable of. He knew that Merlin had never been his father's strongest supporter. In fact, he'd openly criticized Uther on more than one occasion. But surely Merlin would never have gone so far as to actually kill him. Merlin hadn't even wanted to kill Morgana, in the end. Arthur couldn't have misread Merlin that badly, could he?

"Arthur, think about this," Gwen urged. "Merlin has served you loyally for years. If he really wanted your father dead, wouldn't there have been a better way to do it? And why would he risk revealing himself unless it was the only way he knew to help you, to help your father even?" Arthur considered her words carefully as she rubbed her fingers along his knuckles. "I know Merlin, and he would never do anything to hurt you. I'm sure he genuinely tried to save your father."

Arthur wanted to believer her. Part of him _did_ believe her. But the rest of him needed answers.

Tossing back the blankets, Arthur stood, heading straight for the wardrobe for some fresh clothes. "I have to know. I have to be sure." Gwen nodded, moving to help him.

"I know. We'll go see him together."


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin wasn't sure what had woken him. He'd been dreaming. Well, dreaming was too mild of a word. It was more like a nightmare – one where Mordred taunted him with druid prophecies while Merlin was plagued by a figure creeping about in the shadows, preparing to attack him.

The next thing he knew, he was falling. He hit the floor hard, but he was too shaken to take notice of the pain in his shoulder. In the haziness of his semi-awake state, he still felt that unknown _something_ watching him from the shadows, stalking, sneaking, lurking in dark corners and just waiting...

Merlin jumped to his feet, prepared to defend himself. He felt his magic surge inside of him. He heard the glass shatter.

When his vision cleared and he could finally focus on the world around him, the nightmare images faded away to reveal Gauis sitting at the table with Gwaine, both staring at him blankly. He looked between the two men and the shards of broken glass scattered about the floor.

Merlin supposed that must have been some nightmare to wake him so violently.

"Uh… sorry," he said, offering Gauis a slightly embarrassed smile. "I'll, uh, clean that up later."

"I should think so," Gauis said. "You all right, my boy?"

"Yeah, I… I think so. Just, banged my shoulder when I fell there."

Gaius frowned, but said nothing. "Well, you're awake now, so you might as well come over here and eat something." Merlin ran a hand through his hair, absently thinking that Gaius always seemed to be trying to feed him something, as if that would somehow cure all his ills. Although, now that he thought about it, he actually was a bit hungry.

Still shaking the sleep and confusion from his brain, Merlin had the nagging suspicion that food really shouldn't be the number one thing on his mind at the moment.

"Um, excuse me?" Gwaine said, eyes narrowed as he looked at Merlin. "But would you like to tell me what the hell _that_ was?"

Oh. Right. Now Merlin remembered; he needed to focus on Gwaine right now. Breakfast could wait.

"What?" Merlin asked innocently. Or at least, he thought it sounded innocent. He must have been the only one who thought so, as Gauis rolled his eyes and Gwaine looked like he was about ready to throw something at him.

"What? What do you mean 'what'? That!" Gwaine pointed at the shattered glass.

"Oh, that…. That was an accident," Merlin said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Merlin felt the urge to slap himself for his lame reply.

Normally, Gwaine would laugh at Merlin's goofy response, but the look on the knight's face made it clear that he was not amused.

"Merlin, you did that. With magic." Gwaine's tone was matter-of-fact, no question in his voice.

Merlin couldn't deny it, of course. "Yes," Merlin said cautiously. "I did. On accident, I want to remind you. I don't usually go blowing up innocent objects just for the fun of it."

Gwaine stared at him blankly and Merlin sighed.

"You don't remember anything about last night, do you?"

"What? That doesn't have anything to do with…" Gwaine stopped, looked at Merlin, and then spent a moment considering it. "I remember waking up and seeing you, and when I asked where you'd been all this time, you just said you'd been busy doing… something. And then Arthur was there, alive. And he said everything was fine." Gwaine stopped again, looked to Gaius, who nodded, and then turned back to Merlin. "Is everything fine?"

Merlin smiled. "Yes, Gwaine. Everything is fine."

"Then why won't you tell me what the hell is going on?"

The smile vanished from Merlin's face as he saw Gwaine's frustration. "I healed you, Gwaine. You were dying. Percival had brought you back to Camelot, but you wouldn't wake up. And last night I healed you… with magic."

Merlin didn't know what he expected from Gwaine. Shock? Confusion? Maybe even gratitude? Somehow, telling Gwaine seemed almost anticlimactic. Everyone else already knew. They had all seen him heal Gwaine, and they all knew that Arthur had accepted Merlin, magic and all. After last night, Merlin had thought he wouldn't have to go through another one of these conversations. And yet, here he was.

"No." Gwaine said. "No. You couldn't have." Okay then, so it was going to be denial. Merlin thought he could cope with denial.

"I did, Gwaine," he said gently. "And it's not the first time I've used magic to help you or Arthur. You have to understand. I have magic, but I would never use it as Morgana did. I would never willingly hurt anyone. I use magic to help people, to protect Camelot. Magic isn't evil; it can be used to do so much good."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, as Gwaine leapt to his feet, knocking the chair over as he stood.

"You're a sorcerer!"

Merlin flinched, not at the accusation itself, which was true after all, but at the heated edge to Gwaine's voice.

"Yes."

"And you've had magic all this time?" Gwaine demanded. Merlin merely nodded. "When we first met, in that bar fight… you had magic then? And when we followed Arthur to the perilous lands? And ever since?"

"Yes. I was born with magic."

"Do you take me for a fool?" Gwaine scoffed. "Well, I suppose that must be exactly what you take me for, isn't it? And apparently I am. Just foolish old Gwaine; he'll believe anything!"

Merlin was shocked by the bitterness in Gwaine's tone. "No, that's not…"

Gwaine cut him off. "Did you really need my help?"

"What?"

"You went to the Valley of the Fallen Kings, Merlin. Camelot was at war, on the eve of battle, and you went off on some godforsaken quest to the Valley of the Fallen Kings!" He threw his hands up in frustration. "And I went with you. I took you there, without question, because I thought you needed my protection. I knew it was strange when you wouldn't tell me what you were looking for, but I trusted you, just like you asked me to. Because I've always trusted you, Merlin. So you tell me, and you damn well better not be lying to me: did you really need my help?"

Merlin stared, mouth open. He didn't understand the question, didn't fully understand Gwaine's need to know. But he knew if he gave the wrong answer, Gwaine would never forgive him.

"Yes. Yes, Gwaine, I really did need your help."

For a moment, the room was so silent that Merlin could hear Gwaine's anxious breath. They stared at each other and Merlin knew he was being judged, even if he didn't quite understand why or how. When Gwaine didn't say anything, Merlin decided he would have to continue. He wished he had a better handle on what was going on here. He had always expected that if his secret were to be revealed, Gwaine would be the one most likely to accept it, to accept him. He'd never expected this fierce anger.

"Listen, Gwaine. I know this must be strange for you, but the truth is that I needed you to take me to the Valley of the Fallen Kings because Morgana had found a way to steal my magic and I had to find a way to get it back. It was the only way I could help Arthur, and I knew that without magic, I would never get through the Valley of the Fallen Kings by myself. So I came to you because you're my friend. You always have been. And the fact that I have magic doesn't change that."

If Merlin had hoped this speech would get through to Gwaine, he was destined to be disappointed.

"Just shut up!" the knight shouted, grabbing a plate off the table and hurling it at the nearest wall with all his strength. The plate clashed against the wall and clattered to the floor, but Gwaine's anger didn't diminish in the slightest. "Damn it, Merlin, you're a sorcerer! And you're not my friend."

The words hit their mark, and Merlin had to remember how to breathe as he felt the sting of tears behind his eyes.

Distantly, Merlin heard the door slam open at the same moment as Gwaine spoke, and he thought he heard someone gasp, but Merlin didn't even think to see who it was. At that moment, he wasn't sure it mattered.

* * *

Arthur and Guinevere were just approaching Gauis's chambers when they heard someone yell. Looking at each other in alarm, they hurried towards the door. Arthur threw the door open just in time to hear a loud crash.

He had barely taken in the strange scene laid out before of him when he was stunned to hear Gwaine denounce his friendship with Merlin, speaking in a voice angrier than any Arthur had ever heard the knight use before. Gwen gasped. Arthur saw the tears gather in Merlin's eyes.

For a moment, no one spoke. Gaius sat at the table, looking stunned. Gwaine stood, back straight and fists clenched in anger as he stared at Merlin. And then there was the sorcerer, standing in the middle of the room, somehow looking like a lost little boy, and wearing a stricken expression.

"Gwaine," Merlin said, voice cracking. "You don't mean that…"

"Don't I? Because the way I see it, you were the first person I ever called a friend, and now I learn that you've been lying to me all this time. I trusted you. Hell, Merlin, I told you about my father when I'd hardly known you for a week. That's something I've never told anyone."

"I know," Merlin choked out, "But…"

"No, Merlin. You should have told me. When I left you in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, before Camlann… I asked what you were looking for. You should have told me _then_ if you couldn't do so before. If I had known, things would have been different. I would have…" Gwaine choked, swallowing heavily as he reigned in his emotions. When he continued, he looked Merlin in the eye, his expression solemn.

"I understand keeping secrets, and I understand why you didn't want everyone to know. But you should have told _me_. Did you really think I wouldn't have understood? I know what it's like to live a lie. When we met, I was a penniless nobleman who spent his life on the run, always lying about his past. If anyone could understand your secret, Merlin, I would have. And you never gave me the chance."

His words seemed to leave Merlin speechless, and to be honest, Arthur knew how he felt. He was still trying to process what Gwaine had said. Had the man really just referred to himself as a _nobleman_? But he didn't have time to ponder it, as Gwaine glared at Merlin one last time.

"You've always known exactly who and what I am, Merlin. I never tried to hide it from you. It's a shame that you can't say the same." Gwaine turned and stormed out of the room, brushing past Arthur and Gwen without a single word.

Percival appeared in the hallway just as Gwaine stomped off in the other direction. Arthur caught Percival's puzzled frown and nodded towards the corridor where Gwaine had just disappeared. "Follow him, Percival. Make sure he stays out of trouble, and look after him until he's calmed down."

Percival nodded and, sparing only a quick glance for Merlin and the others, trotted off after Sir Gwaine.

Arthur returned his attention to the scene in front of him, closing the door softly.

"Merlin," Gaius said gently, "why don't you sit down?"

Merlin did so, numbly, shaking his head as he wiped his hand across his eyes.

"Gosh, could that have gone any worse?" he asked quietly.

Arthur shrugged. "Oh, I can think of a few ways it might have been worse."

Merlin tried to force a dry laugh, but it came out as a choking cough. "I guess I should be thankful he wasn't armed?"

"True," Arthur nodded. "It's never a good idea to anger Gwaine when he has a sword in his hand."

Gwen moved over to sit beside Merlin at the table. "Merlin, you know Gwaine didn't mean any of that."

"She's right, Merlin. I'm sure that was just Gwaine being his usual hot-headed self," Arthur added.

"No," Merlin shook his head. "No, I think he meant every word. And in some ways, he's right. I just never expected _Gwaine_ to be the one who couldn't forgive me."

Arthur winced, though thankfully Merlin didn't notice. But the words reminded the king of why he'd come here in the first place, so intent on confronting Merlin about an action that most people would consider unforgiveable. That is, if Merlin had actually done it. Not that Arthur really believed it, but… he'd never be happy until the doubt of it was gone.

Seeing Merlin sitting before him, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy, Arthur thought that now probably wasn't the best time to confront the sorcerer about his father's death. Merlin was upset enough about the confrontation with Gwaine that Arthur doubted he'd be able to give a coherent answer. He was too emotionally raw at the moment, and… and Arthur suddenly realized that Merlin wouldn't be able to lie convincingly in his current state; his emotions were sure to give him away.

"Merlin, I came here to ask you something," Arthur said, speaking hastily before he lost his nerve. He saw Gwen glare at him, warning him not to proceed, but he'd made up his mind, and Arthur had always been stubborn. It was a trait he'd inherited from his father.

Merlin didn't reply, but he looked up at Arthur expectantly. He was clearly so blindsided by Gwaine that he wasn't prepared for another attack. Arthur felt a bit guilty for what he was about to do, but he decided it would be best for everyone if they got this out of the way as quickly as possible.

When he spoke, his voice was steady, calm and direct. "Merlin, did you kill my father?"

The simple question caused everyone in the room to react. Gaius nearly jumped out of his seat, Gwen stiffened, placing one hand on Merlin's shoulder, and Merlin… well, Merlin looked as though he'd been slapped.

It took him only a second to recover; Merlin pulled away from Gwen's comforting hand, and stood to face Arthur.

"No! Arthur, no. Of course not. I would never… how could you even think I would kill your father?" Merlin stuttered. Arthur didn't reply, just stared, like a king expecting an answer from a suspected criminal. And it hurt, but that's exactly how Merlin needed to see this. When Arthur didn't cave, Merlin paled. "Arthur, I would never… I mean, yes, that was me, that old sorcerer you asked for help. It was just an aging spell, so I could heal Uther without you knowing… But you have to believe me, Arthur, I tried to heal him. I did. And it was working. I could feel it working! But Morgana found out about your plan. Agravaine must have told her you had resorted to magic, and she had him place an enchanted pendant around Uther's neck. It reversed my healing spell and amplified the effects, so instead of healing him it…" Merlin choked on the words. "But it _was_ working, Arthur. I could have healed him, I _was_ healing him. But the pendant… and I didn't know. And…"

Arthur had his answer, and knew there was no sense in prolonging Merlin's misery.

"Merlin, stop. Just stop." He grasped Merlin by the shoulders and gently eased him back down into a sitting position, half afraid that Merlin would collapse from the shock. "It's all right. I believe you. I knew you wouldn't kill my father. At least, I wanted to believe it. I just had to be sure."

"You believe me?"

"Well, no offense Merlin, but right now, I doubt you could lie if your life depended on it." Merlin frowned and Arthur took pity on him. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have sprung that on you so suddenly, but I just… I needed to hear the truth and I needed to be sure you weren't lying about it."

Merlin nodded as though he understood, but it was clear that he was just relieved Arthur had accepted his word.

"Sire," Gaius broke in, drawing Arthur's attention away. "He's right about the pendant. There was nothing he could have done. Your father was dying already; he would certainly have died without the intervention of powerful magic. And with Morgana's enchantment in place, even magic couldn't save him."

"Thank you, Gaius. I'm sure you both did what you could."

Gaius pushed back from the table and walked over to a nearby cabinet, stepping over some broken glass in the process. "Merlin, I thought you were going to clean this up?" Gaius said.

Merlin raised his head, saw the glass, and rolled his eyes. He seemed to think for a moment, closing his eyes, and then he spoke more of those magic words that Arthur was beginning to become familiar with. The glass shards gathered themselves up into a pile and deposited themselves into a nearby bucket.

Gwen stared in shock, still completely unused to seeing Merlin use magic.

"Merlin, that was… that was fantastic," she said. Merlin managed a small smile at her praise.

"Wait a second," Arthur said, "Merlin, is this how you've been doing your chores all these years?"

"What? No!" Merlin denied quickly. "I mean, maybe once in a while, in the early days, but not anymore. Not unless it's necessary."

Arthur wanted to ask for clarification as to exactly what Merlin considered "necessary," but before he could say anything, Gaius returned to the table with a bottle of wine he'd had tucked away in a cupboard somewhere.

"Here," Gaius set down the bottle and a few metal cups. "I know it's early, but I think we could all use some of this today." He poured the wine into four cups. Merlin hastily reached for one and drank it all in one go. Arthur, Gwen, and Gaius all looked at him. Merlin merely shrugged and put the cup down.

"Do you really think Gwaine won't forgive you?" Arthur asked, once they'd all settled in to their drinks.

Merlin shook his head. "I don't know. I could understand if he didn't, after all the times I've lied to him. I'm honestly surprised the rest of you are taking this as well as you are."

"But Gwaine said that you should have told him, as if there was somehow more to it for him. He said that he'd asked you about something? When you the two of you were in the Valley of the Fallen Kings?"

Merlin groaned. "Arthur do we have to talk about this now? It's kind of a long story."

"Would you rather talk about it in front of the council?"

Merlin scowled, but merely grabbed Arthur's cup and drank his wine. Arthur was about to complain about it, but then he merely shrugged. Merlin probably needed it.

With a deep breath, Merlin tried to answer. "Before you left for Camlann, when I told you that I wouldn't be going with you because I had to run an errand for Gaius… I was lying."

"Well, obviously," Gwen said. They all turned to look at her. "Why would Gaius send you on an errand right before the battle? And why would you go? You never leave Arthur's side, not when it really matters. And you knew how important this battle was going to be. So, obviously, if you were somewhere else, you must have been doing something vitally important."

Merlin looked at her fondly. "Gwen, when did you become so observant?"

The queen blushed. "I just know you, that's all. It didn't make sense to me at the time, and that was before I figured out you were a sorcerer."

"Yes, well, for a while there I wasn't. At least, not really."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"When Mordred went to Morgana, he told her about me. And she found a way to make sure I couldn't interfere with her plans." Arthur didn't miss the way Merlin shifted uncomfortably. "She found a way to…steal my powers." He looked up at Arthur quickly, gauging his reaction. "She took away my magic."

Arthur had no response for that. He hadn't realized that such a thing was possible. But, then again, he'd seen it before. Now that he stopped to consider it, Arthur recalled that Morgana had somehow lost her powers when he had confronted her four years ago, as they retook Camelot from her second occupation. He'd found it odd at the time, but Morgana had clearly been frightened by her own helplessness. And now that Arthur thought about it….

"You mean she stole your powers the same way that you stole hers when we reclaimed Camelot four years ago?"

Merlin's jaw dropped.

"How did you… when did…" Merlin stuttered, and then snapped his jaw shut, giving Arthur a speculative glance. "How did you know that was me?"

"Come now, Merlin. I'm not a complete idiot."

"You figured that out just now, didn't you?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Arthur confirmed. "But I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes and no. I did – temporarily – cut off Morgana's magic. But that was a strong enchantment that merely blocked her ability to use magic. I knew it wouldn't hold forever, just long enough for us to regain control of the city. What Morgana did to me was… different. She used a creature that was supposed to feed on magic, to devour the victims' magical abilities and leave them…empty."

"Which is why you didn't want to come to Camlann with me? Because you couldn't use magic to defend yourself?"

"No, I didn't go to Camlann with you because I had to find a way to regain my powers in order to save your life! If it was just a matter of my safety, I would have followed you in a heartbeat. But I was powerless to protect you, Arthur. And I couldn't sit by and do nothing."

Arthur was surprised anew by the passion in Merlin's voice, even though he should be used to it by now.

"So I was right, then," Arthur said. Merlin looked both puzzled and annoyed at his smugness, but Arthur just continued. "You really are the bravest man I've ever met."

Merlin actually blushed and looked away, as though he wasn't sure he could believe Arthur's words. Arthur decided to ignore his embarrassment and let him off the hook, for the moment at least. "So you and Gwaine went to the Valley of the Fallen Kings?"

"Yes," Merlin said, still avoiding Arthur's gaze. "There's a magical place there, a cave… it's said to be the birthplace of magic. I thought I could find answers there."

"Did you?"

Merlin nodded. "Answers, yes. And more questions. But I found what I needed to counteract what Morgana had done." Merlin sighed, seeming uncomfortable with this whole conversation. He looked towards the smashed plate that still lay on the floor before he continued. "I had Gwaine take me to the cave, and then told him to return to Camelot. He wanted to know what I was looking for, but I wouldn't say. I thought about it, for just a brief moment. After all, if I failed, then it wouldn't really matter who knew about me. But I just… I couldn't tell him. He seemed to accept it. He gave me his sword and left."

"And now he's angry that you didn't tell him," Arthur concluded.

"Seems that way."

"You did what you had to do, Merlin," Gaius said.

"And I'm sure Gwaine will eventually see that," Gwen added.

Merlin shrugged, but Arthur could tell he wasn't convinced. "Maybe."

"Merlin, one last question. At least, for today," Arthur said. "What did Gwaine mean? About his father and lying about his past? He claimed he was a poor nobleman."

"Oh… I can't answer that, Arthur. It's not my secret to tell."

"Well, it's not like Gwaine's in any position to complain, after he started shouting about it. And seriously… Gwaine? He's the one who's always been so quick to criticize the nobility." Arthur frowned, finding this revelation more confusing the more he thought about it. "Wait a minute… if Gwaine had said he was from a noble family, then my father would never have banished him in the first place."

Merlin groaned at Arthur's persistence. "His father was a knight in Caerleon's army. That's all I can say. And he'll probably be angry that I even told you that much, so if you want to know the details, you'll have to talk to Gwaine."

Gaius frowned at this, squinting slightly. "Merlin, you never told _me_ any of this." Arthur felt oddly pleased. Finally here was a secret that even Gaius hadn't known about.

"He didn't want anyone to know," Merlin replied, "not even when Uther first banished him. I don't know why he's kept it a secret this long, but I guess he didn't want anyone to think any differently of him."

Huh. That actually made some sense. It was certainly something for Arthur to ponder and he would speak with Gwaine about it. But for now, he had other matters to attend to.

"Well, I'll deal with Gwaine when the time comes. For now, just give him some time, Merlin." Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "He'll come around. But unfortunately, I'm sure there's some sort of pressing business for me to attend to." Arthur stood and looked to Gwen, who rose to stand beside him.

"Yes, Leon will want to consult you about the border patrols, and at some point we will need to assemble the council," Gwen added. "By now, I know that all of Camelot has heard of your safe return, but the council members will want to speak with you directly, for reassurance if nothing else."

Arthur nodded. He still wished he could have stayed in bed all day. Thankfully matters of state were less tedious with Guinevere beside him to manage the details.

Merlin stood and seemed ready to follow the king and queen, but Arthur quickly stopped him. "And where do you think you're going?"

Merlin opened his mouth and then closed it, seeming confused. "I thought you might need me."

"No, I distinctly remember giving you two days off. I suggest you make good use of them."

Arthur didn't wait for a response, turning again to leave with Gwen at his side, but Merlin's voice stopped them.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"What do you plan to do with me?"

And there it was. The question he'd been avoiding all morning. With a sigh, Arthur faced Merlin again.

"If you're asking me if you're to be banished or some other such nonsense, the answer is no. You're staying right here in Camelot."

"But the law states…"

"I know what the law states, Merlin. And I suspect that, thanks to you, I am going to become intimately familiar with the laws my father put in place regarding sorcery. But the whole army saw a sorcerer aid us in that battle. They may not know it was you, but they still saw. That changes things for everyone. And yes, I suspect the law will have to change. I don't know how, and I don't know when. But eventually it will happen."

Merlin frowned. "But…"

"For now, you are under royal pardon. Let's not worry about the rest of it today, all right?"

Merlin nodded in acceptance. Just as Arthur reached the door, he heard Merlin's voice.

"Thank you, sire."

With a quick smile, Arthur nodded. As he turned to face the duties of kingship, he realized that he had a great deal of thinking to do. He made a mental note to talk to Geoffrey when he had a moment to spare. He needed to learn more about magic if he was going to make a decision that would affect his entire kingdom. He was seriously contemplating abolishing the laws his father had created, and he knew that this was no small thing. He would have to confront the council's fear of magic as well as his own, convince his people that magic was not something to hate or despise, and lead the way for an entirely new era in Camelot's history. And all of this was because of the actions of one man.

But if Arthur knew anything, it was that one man had the power to change a kingdom. And in this case, the only person who could change Camelot was Arthur himself. He didn't believe for one moment that this change would come easily, but he was beginning to see that it was the only fair and just thing to do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes:** _This chapter is horribly late and I have no excuse (besides, you know, real life). There's a bit of set-up here for things to come. You want some hints? Get ready for a few druids to appear in this story, as well as some other representatives of the Old Religion. With that teaser to pique your interest, on to the story!_

* * *

After fleeing Gaius's chambers, Gwaine didn't get far. Percival found him in a corridor of the castle, sitting on the floor and slumped against the wall, looking more defeated than Percival would have liked.

"Gwaine?" he said softly.

"Go away, Percival."

"Sorry. Can't do that. King's orders."

Gwaine snorted derisively. "Send you to babysit me, did he?"

"Yep," Percival replied. "Someone has to keep you out of trouble because I'm not too keen on carting your unconscious body back to Gaius anytime soon. I've already had enough of that for a lifetime."

Gwaine had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry. I seem to be a bit of a mess lately."

Percival shrugged. "Well, we all have our days."

"Yeah, but most of those don't involve falling for a girl who's using you to betray the kingdom and sneaking around behind your back to send messages to a vengeful witch. Or idiotically running after said vengeful witch and nearly getting your friends killed. Or finding out that one of your best friends is really no friend at all."

Percival sunk down beside Gwaine so that they were sitting shoulder to shoulder.

"Well, yeah, when you put it like that, it sounds pretty bad."

Gwaine glared. "Thanks for the support."

"So, you found out then? About Merlin?"

"That's he a sorcerer? Yes. I found out." Gwaine's glare intensified. "Don't tell me I'm the last one to know?"

Percival shrugged. "Well, I'm not sure really… I guess you might be. Arthur clearly knows, and the queen wasn't surprised when Merlin used magic to heal you. Merlin told me when we were on our way back to Camelot. And it sounds like Gaius has known all along."

Gwaine let out a hollow laugh. "So, at least I found out before Leon, I suppose. He'll blow his top when he hears."

"No," Percival shook his head. "Leon was there yesterday, when Merlin healed you. I haven't really spoken to him since, but he seemed pretty calm about the whole thing."

Gwaine groaned, letting his head fall into his hands.

"You really didn't know?" Percival pressed. Gwaine shook his head miserably, refusing to look up. "It's just that… well, Merlin said that Lancelot knew, before he died. So I wondered, later, when I thought about it, if maybe Merlin had told you. The two of you were always such friends."

"I'd thought we were. Obviously I was wrong."

"Oh, Gwaine…" Percival said softly. "I don't think it's like that."

"Isn't it?" Gwaine snapped, looking up again.

Percival thought seriously before responding. "I don't really know what to make of it. But Merlin hasn't changed. He's still the same Merlin we've always known." For a moment, Percival thought of Merlin's earnest expression as he stared at him across the campfire, swearing that he was still Percival's friend. Percival hadn't been sure what to think at the time, but watching Merlin heal Gwaine had gone a long way towards dispelling his doubts. Merlin was still their friend, and even magic couldn't change that.

"I've watched him since I found out," Percival continued, "and I think he's telling the truth. I don't think he means any harm. The magic… it doesn't seem to affect him. It doesn't make him like Morgana, or any of the other sorcerers we've met. I think he's different."

An angry look flashed across Gwaine's face, the kind Percival usually saw just before the knight decided to punch someone. "Of course, he's different you big lump," Gwaine snapped. "Merlin isn't evil. The boy doesn't have a malicious bone in his body."

"But then why did you say…"

"I've been around enough to know that magic isn't inherently evil. I may have spent the past five years in Camelot, but I've done my fair share of travelling and I've met a few magic users now and then. And yeah, some of them are greedy, conniving rats, but not all of them. Some of them are no crazier than you or me."

Percival frowned in confusion. "I don't understand. If you're not mad about the magic, then what?"

"You don't get it," Gwaine scoffed. "Merlin lied about who and what he was. Every day, he lied. I thought I knew him. I thought there was no need for secrets between us. I trusted him, more than I trusted anyone. Whenever he called, I came running. I followed him to the perilous lands simply because he asked me to. I've always stuck by him because I thought he was a loyal friend, and I swore I'd be there whenever he needed my help."

Gwaine sighed. "But I was wrong. Again. He's lied about everything…he probably never needed my help at all. He certainly didn't need my protection any more than Eira did."

"Is that what this is about? Eira?"

"No." Gwaine pushed off the wall, standing on unsteady feet before he walked away. Percival hurried to follow, but Gwaine refused to look him in the eye. "It's not about Eira or Morgana's cruel tricks or any of it. This is because I am sick of being played for a fool. I'm sick of magic, and lies, and deception, and hopeless battles. I'm sick of people lying about who they really are. And if that makes me a hypocrite, then right now I just don't give a damn."

Somehow that didn't clear up Percival's confusion in the slightest. But maybe it didn't matter at the moment. Gwaine was clearly in no shape to be left on his own. In fact, Percival was afraid he was heading straight to the tavern to drown his sorrows, and that wouldn't do him any good at all. So Percival followed him, steered him away from the tavern, listened to his insane ranting, let Gwaine slowly tire himself out, and then led the tired knight back to Percival's own rooms to get some rest. He couldn't be left alone, and given Gwaine's obvious feelings about Eira, Percival didn't want to leave Gwaine in his own chambers where he might be tempted to dwell on the girl's deception.

Instead, Percival made sure that Gwaine was fed and had suitably talked himself out (though he avoided mentioning Merlin's name for the remainder of the day), before he tucked Gwaine into bed and let him sleep.

* * *

Merlin didn't know what to do with himself. His world had officially turned upside down and as hard as he tried, he couldn't make sense of it. Arthur knew he had magic and swore that he wouldn't punish him for it. Then he gave him two days off, which was, in a strange way, almost a punishment in and of itself.

What was Merlin to do with two days off? For all of his complaints about how Arthur overworked him, Merlin truly hated being idle. And although Merlin would never admit it out loud, in many ways Arthur was his life. Now that he was no longer at Arthur's side, he felt strangely bereft.

But Arthur knew the truth, and now that they were safely back in Camelot, the king didn't need Merlin anymore – at least not today. Merlin was astute enough to realize that his two-day vacation wasn't an entirely benevolent gesture on Arthur's part. Arthur needed time to process everything that had happened, and he couldn't do that with Merlin following his every step. Merlin understood that, but he still felt vaguely lost and purposeless.

So, now, with Gaius out looking after patients, Gwaine off somewhere cursing Merlin's name, and Arthur and Gwen attending to matters of state…. Merlin was completely alone with no idea of what to do with himself.

The quiet of Gaius's chambers was almost more than he could stand. Feeling restless and uncertain, Merlin decided that he had to get outside, at least for a while. Maybe a walk would help him clear his head.

He set out with no particular purpose or destination in mind, just walking and hoping that he'd find his destination along the way. First, he wandered along the outskirts of the castle, and then down through the lower town, but before long, Merlin found himself back in the courtyard, surrounded by the usual hustle and bustle of servants, stable hands, villagers and palace visitors. For a while, Merlin sat on the castle steps, soaking up the sun and quietly taking it all in.

Today, Camelot was practically buzzing. An overwhelming feeling of euphoria drifted throughout the city, a sense of victory hovering in the sun-soaked air. People chatted in clusters, spreading word of the king's triumphant return. Arthur's presence had rejuvenated the city and infused it with energy once again.

The joy was infectious, but Merlin had to remind himself that things could have turned out very differently. If he had failed, if Morgana had won, if Kilgarrah hadn't been able to heal the king, if Arthur had died… just one small misstep and this city and these people might look very different.

He wondered how long the people of Camelot would have mourned their fallen king. A month? A year? A lifetime? Part of him believed that Camelot would have never recovered, but he knew that was foolish. Camelot would have continued without Arthur. It would have been weakened, of course, diminished, it's bright light dimmed. But it would have survived, ruled by a compassionate queen and a group of noble knights.

Merlin wondered if anyone but Gaius would have noticed his own absence in the wake of Arthur's death. No one knew Merlin's part in Camelot's rise and fall. If Arthur had died and Merlin had never returned, would his absence have made any difference?

Even now he sat watching, a quiet observer, somehow separate from the throngs of happy people mingling around him. To these people, Merlin was just a servant, while Arthur and Guinevere were their pride and their protection. As it should be. There was no need for them to know Merlin's role in restoring Arthur to his throne. It was enough that it was done.

But then where did that leave him?

Right now, still stung from Gwaine's words and set adrift by Arthur's clear dismissal of him this morning, Merlin didn't feel like watching from a distance as the city rejoiced.

Wearily, he pulled himself to his feet and wandered back inside. He might not have work to do, but he knew there would be others busily toiling away inside the palace. The least he could do was find some of the other servants and offer to keep them company. Perhaps it would give him something to keep his mind occupied, at least for a little while, until he had to face the unexpected turn his life had taken.

* * *

"Merlin?"

He'd barely returned to the castle corridors when Merlin was stopped by the sound of his own name. He spun around and found himself facing a young man several years younger than himself. It was a stable hand named Liam who sometimes helped out with chores around the castle.

"We all thought you'd disappeared again, mate," Liam said good-naturedly. "Ellie said you would be off following the king into battle, but I told her that you weren't there, not with the others when they rode out. And I should know, since I had to help saddle up the horses. So since you weren't here, and you weren't there, we all thought maybe somethin' had happened."

Merlin gave him that well-practiced smile of his. "Yes, well, I had some errands to run, and it put me a bit behind schedule. But I caught up to the action eventually." He chuckled. "I always do, you know."

Liam seemed torn between amusement and dismay at Merlin's cavalier attitude. That was the way many of the servants regarded him these days. Merlin was infamous for always being at the center of any excitement. It meant he always had the best gossip among the staff, although everyone had noticed how Merlin's crazy stories had become less and less frequent as the years wore on. It became easier to dodge the questions than to think up a sufficiently entertaining lie.

"Yeah, I know, Merlin. But sometimes it's worrisome, you know?"

"No, I don't know. What are you talking about?" Merlin frowned.

"I just mean that sometimes people around here worry about you, is all. A servant shouldn't be storming off into battle. God knows why the king makes you do it."

Merlin laughed, falling into step beside Liam as they both continued towards the kitchens. "Oh, he doesn't make me do anything. Actually, he always seems to try convincing me to stay home. But you know me; I never listen." This did not seem to reassure Liam in the slightest, but Merlin smiled. "Hey, trust me. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

Liam looked skeptical, but if he was going to say something, he never had the chance. They had reached the kitchen and Merlin barely stepped one foot into the room when a pot dropped, clanging dramatically on the floor. Liam jumped in surprise and they both turned to find the source of the commotion.

A kitchen maid stared back at them, the pot she'd been drying now lying at her feet.

"Now look what you did, Celia, we'll have to clean that all over again. What's got you so startled toda…. Oh." Ellie, the assistant cook, stopped. "Merlin. Well, I'll be. Haven't seen you around in ages. Everyone thought you must have run off somewhere when you weren't seen with the king and the rest of the army. But I'd heard rumors you were back at his side when he returned yesterday afternoon."

Merlin grinned. "Where else would I be?"

"Well, then what're you doing in the kitchen this fine afternoon? You know what'll happen if Audrey catches you down here." Merlin did know. Audrey's dislike of him was legendary throughout the castle, though even Merlin couldn't remember what he'd originally done to earn her wrath.

"Well, so long as you don't tell her…" he said with a grin.

Ellie laughed. "Fair enough, Merlin, fair enough. But the king really is back, isn't he? I know everyone says it, but I've been down here all day, so I can only take them at their word."

"Yes, he's back, safe and sound." Merlin noticed the kitchen maid, Celia, fumbling with the pot she'd dropped, as she moved over to the washing basin.

"Then shouldn't you be off somewhere serving him? Not that it's my business to question you, of course, I just never see you down here without being in a hurry."

Merlin shrugged. "Apparently, I have the day off."

Liam's skeptical look returned. "I don't think I've ever heard you take a day off since I started working here," he said in amazement.

Ellie let out a warm laugh. "That's true enough, but you should take the rest where you can, Merlin, because you know it won't last." Celia stumbled, kicking a bucket and creating another ruckus. "Celia certainly won't be seeing a day off in the near future, if she keeps this up."

The girl squawked in indignation. "But Ellie, it's not my fault."

"Tell that to Audrey when she sees you, though I doubt she'll care."

Liam chuckled. "Don't be so hard on her, Ellie. You've heard about her new friend. I'm sure he's the reason she's got her head in the clouds today."

Celia blushed and Merlin had to stifle a laugh.

"And who is this new friend?" Merlin asked, teasingly.

"You wouldn't know him," Celia muttered, suddenly shy. "He's new to Camelot, only been here a few days."

"And I'm sure you volunteered to show him around?" Liam added.

"Well," Ellie said, "she won't be showing anyone anything if she doesn't get to work soon." Celia's blush deepened as she returned to the wash basin. Ellie turned back to Merlin and Liam with a wry smile. "See, it's just a matter of proper motivation." Ellie winked.

The laugh Merlin had been holding in finally came out as a deep chuckle, and he couldn't help but smile, drinking in the relaxed atmosphere and the friendly company.

"What's going on in here?" a stern voice asked. With an eye roll, Merlin cursed himself for letting his guard down, especially in the palace kitchen of all places. He should have known better. When he looked behind him, there was Audrey, the head cook, glaring at the scene before her as though it was a band of thieves in her kitchen rather than a gathering of servants.

"Look who's back and stopped by for a visit?" Ellie said, gesturing to Merlin, who earned the full weight of Audrey's stare in response. Merlin glared at Ellie briefly, but she merely shrugged unrepentantly.

"Yes, I can very well see that for myself," Audrey replied, looking Merlin over seriously. "And where have you been, mister? Up to your usual tricks, no doubt?"

Merlin winced at the irony of her words. He had been, in fact….On his trip to and from Camlann, he'd pulled out all of his usual tricks and charms, even the old Dragoon disguise and the same spell he'd used to call down lightning and defeat Nimueh. But he could hardly tell that to Camelot's crotchety head cook.

"Are you here to tell us all about it or are you too high and mighty for that?" Audrey asked pointedly, when Merlin failed to respond.

"Now, Audrey," Ellie said, "Don't be like that. You don't have to ruin everyone's fun."

"Fun? What fun? You all are supposed to be working. And lord only knows what _he's_ supposed to be doing, but I doubt it involves standing around here yapping."

Ellie frowned and Merlin could tell that she was about to jump to his defense, but he knew when to cut his losses.

He gave his best impression of a carefree smile, as he turned to Audrey. "I was just going anyway. I wouldn't want to bother anyone, especially as you all seem particularly busy." He glanced at Ellie for a moment, adding, "Ellie, I'm off duty at the moment, but Serra will be taking super up to the king and queen."

"It'll be ready for them," Ellie said with a nod.

"Thanks." With a quick smile, Merlin ducked out of the kitchen. He could already hear Audrey scolding everyone to get back to work, telling Liam to gather some extra wood for the stove, delivering orders to Celia…. He paused outside the door, just out of sight, to listen. In between Audrey's commands, he could hear the casual banter and conversation. He watched as two more kitchen maids entered, joining the commotion as they were greeted with friendly laughter.

Merlin sighed and walked away.

* * *

Sir Leon spent most of his day with the king, reviewing casualty records and reports from the patrols, or else sitting with the small council Arthur had convened to discuss the status of the kingdom.

Leon knew that Arthur was both fulfilling his duty as king and making sure he was visible to the court. He'd met with nearly a dozen of the local lords and a score of knights. And while these meetings were necessary, they were also an intentional statement that Arthur had returned. The more people who saw him alive and well, the sooner word would spread throughout the kingdom. Without a king, Leon had feared that Camelot would appear weak, but now, led by a king who'd triumphed over a magical army and survived a mortal wound, Camelot was stronger than ever. And Arthur wasted no time in making this clear to the lords and knights of his own kingdom first and foremost.

But it had made for a long day. By the time Arthur and Gwen dismissed the last of the knights, both were clearly weary of the proceedings.

Arthur slumped in his chair. Only Gwen and Leon remained with him in the council chamber and Leon had known Arthur all his life. He knew the king felt no need to keep up appearances now.

"Who knew that coming back from the dead would be such hard work," Arthur said flippantly.

"You shouldn't joke like that, Arthur," Gwen said. "It's not funny. And you weren't dead."

"Wasn't I? Arthur shook his head. "I was sure I would be, for a while there. Maybe I even was dead for a minute or two. Who knows. It's not like I can exactly ask the dragon about it."

"You actually saw this dragon… you heard it speak?" Leon asked hesitantly. He'd heard the story last night, but he was still a bit foggy on the details.

"Yes," Arthur said.

"How strange that must have been," Leon said quietly. He looked at the king for a moment, but then shook his head and looked away.

"What is it, Leon?" Arthur knew him too well. He could see the question forming in his mind.

"It's nothing, sire, I just wondered… did it look like the great dragon, the one that attacked Camelot years ago?"

"Yes, it did." Arthur sighed. "It looked exactly like the great dragon."

"What are you saying, Arthur?" Gwen asked.

Arthur leaned forward on the table, taking a moment to rub a hand across his forehead before continuing. "I don't know. I can't be sure without asking Merlin, but…" he shook his head. "But truthfully, I know what his answer would be. Merlin's the one who said I killed the great dragon, but I don't remember it. I've never remembered what happened that night. First we were fighting the dragon and then I got knocked out, only to wake up to Merlin saying I'd dealt it a mortal wound." Arthur rolled his eyes. "I think we know now how much Merlin's word is worth in situations like this."

"So, Merlin must have used magic to defeat the dragon, or send him away somehow," Gwen said.

"Or…" Arthur stopped, but both Leon and Gwen said nothing, waiting for him to continue. "Or he might be a dragonlord."

It took a moment for Leon to process this and formulate a coherent response. Even then, his only response was surprise. "Is that even possible, sire?" Leon knew of dragonlords, of course, but the thought that Merlin might be one was almost beyond belief.

"I don't know," Arthur said. "But it makes sense. He called the dragon to come help us. And the dragon made it quite clear that he healed me because of his loyalty and allegiance to Merlin. So it makes sense."

"As much as anything makes sense, these days," Leon added.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on any of them. When the most logical explanation was that Merlin was a powerful sorcerer and a dragonlord who had been quietly saving Camelot for years and then lying about it… well that just proved how much the world had changed in the past few days.

"Sire, it's been a long day. The council is satisfied that you are well. I have the knights on a rotating patrol during the night to ensure that the city is secure. There's nothing more to be done at the moment. You should both get some rest."

Arthur nodded, but made no move to get up.

Gwen placed a hand on his arm. "Come on, Arthur. We'll send for super and then rest for the evening. I don't want you tiring yourself out."

"We'll need to address the laws about magic," Arthur said, looking from Leon to Gwen and back again. "I can't put this off for long."

"You're right, sire," Leon said. He could see the subject was weighing heavily on the king's mind, but Leon understood why. It was a decision that could potentially change the life of every citizen within Camelot's borders. But perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. When Leon continued, he spoke gently, as Arthur's friend more than a knight. "Arthur, I know this might be difficult for you, but you must understand that magic was part of Camelot once, and it can be again."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I was just a boy when your father cast out the sorcerers and outlawed magic. But my parents told me stories. It wasn't always like this, Arthur. Magic had a place here once; people weren't always afraid of it. It was long ago, but if I remember, even a little bit, then I can't be the only one."

Arthur seemed to consider his words carefully before he finally nodded. "Thank you, Leon. I've always valued your support, and never more so than now." Arthur stood and reached down to Guinevere, who took his hand. "You should rest as well, Leon. Tomorrow the privy council will meet to discuss this, and I'll be depending on you to be the level-headed one."

"Of course, sire."

With Arthur and Gwen retiring for the evening, Leon took one last stroll around the castle, checking that all the sentries were at their posts, then he went to find Percival and Gwaine, figuring that there was one last friend he needed to check on before his duties for the day were officially over.

* * *

After his restless day of wandering the city, Merlin was faced with an equally restless night. While Merlin was no stranger to sleepless nights, somehow this was different. He felt bone-tired, but in spite of his exhaustion, he was wide awake.

Every time he thought he might start to drift off, he was pulled back to full wakefulness by a strange sound, like someone whispering in his ear. It was as if a low voice murmured quiet warnings that kept him in a state of nervous tension. He tried waiting for the sound to come again, but there was just silence. Then, just when he'd given up, he heard it again: the soft shushing of a whisper, slithering along in the stillness.

And just as suddenly, it was gone. Merlin listened intently, staining to hear even the smallest of sounds, and waited. But nothing came. He kept listening until sleep claimed him.

_Emrys. Emrys. The circle of fate has closed, Emrys. No second chance will be given._

Merlin jerked back awake. He hadn't imagined it that time. He'd definitely heard a voice.

Sitting up, Merlin rubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't crazy, but whatever was troubling him wasn't normal.

First his nightmares and now this. No, something was definitely going on.

Throwing aside the blankets, Merlin swung his feet to the floor and began pulling on his boots, determined to find some answers. Merlin was at the door of his room before he stopped and realization hit.

Kilgharrah was dead.

Instinctively, without thinking, Merlin had been on his way to the forest to call on the dragon, knowing if anyone could explain these strange voices, it would be Kilgharrah. But that couldn't happen now.

If Merlin had felt isolated before, he was completely alone now. Gaius had always been a mentor to him, but it was the dragon who truly understood Merlin's loneliness, his fears, and the weight of his destiny. Kilgharrah had rarely provided him the answers he sought, but despite all of his riddles and cryptic prophecies, the dragon had at least been able to provide a source of kinship and sympathy that Merlin could find nowhere else.

And now it was gone.

Feeling almost suffocated by the realization, Merlin slipped out of Gaius's chambers and slunk along the corridors of the castle, keeping to the shadows even though the halls were deserted at this time of night. It didn't matter. The darkness suited Merlin just fine and he knew precisely where he was going. It was no trouble to slip past the guards and into the tunnels beneath the city. He'd done it enough times before and there was something comfortingly familiar about the path he followed.

When he reached his destination, Merlin stopped, staring at the massive cave he'd found when he first came to Camelot and was woken in the night by strange unseen voices that led him to meet his first dragon.

Merlin settled down onto the stone ledge with his back to the wall and drew his knees to his chest.

"Kilgharrah," he whispered to the empty cave. "What do I do now?"

His words were devoured by the silence of the cave. No cryptic answers would be forthcoming tonight. It was funny, really. Kilgharrah had caused Merlin a world of heartache. He'd threatened Merlin, insulted him, ordered him to do despicable things (some of which Merlin had actually done). He'd attacked Camelot and caused so much needless destruction. More than once, Merlin had sworn he would never talk to the old dragon again. But he always did. Because whether he liked it or not, Kilgharrah understood him and he was the only one who could offer guidance when Merlin needed it the most.

Right now, Merlin wished for that guidance more than anything.

"I think I'm going mad," Merlin muttered. "Or someone's trying to drive me mad. But these voices, the dreams… I'm not imagining it. Something is going on, something magical." Merlin laughed. "Well, isn't it always. I just feel like… like something's wrong, somehow. It's like a buzzing under my skin, this constant feeling that something is about to snap."

And maybe it was nothing, but Merlin couldn't take that risk. He knew better than to ignore his instincts. But if he couldn't find answers, he'd just have to keep himself on alert until he found the source of his uneasiness.

Merlin stayed there, in the cave, quietly thinking and breathing in the memories of all the times he'd been there before. Eventually he began to shiver from the cold, damp air, having forgotten his jacket in his rush, and he decided it was time to return to his own bed. Maybe if he was lucky, he would be able to catch a few hours of sleep before the nightmares returned.

Standing up stiffly, Merlin stretched out his aching limbs and slowly made his way through the tunnels and towards the surface. But halfway there, at a bend in the tunnel, Merlin stopped.

Up ahead, he saw a flicker of torchlight. Merlin had made his way through the tunnels by memory and by magic, not even bothering to grab a torch on his way. But clearly, he wasn't alone and his unexpected visitor was more prepared.

The light fluttered, growing brighter. Merlin pressed himself against the wall. _S__ē__o deorcnes me bem__īð__e__þ_, he muttered, the shadows creeping up to conceal him.

He'd finished the spell just in time, as a figure stepped out from around the corner. The stranger stood in the middle of the tunnel quietly, as though listening for footsteps, perhaps trying to ensure he had not been discovered. Merlin noted that the man wore a dark cloak and held his torch high to light the path before him. The man looked up and down the tunnel, scanning in both directions, and Merlin held his breath as the man's eyes passed over him, seeing nothing but the shadows. He caught a glimpse of the stranger's face and saw a young man, certainly younger than Merlin himself by several years. He was hardly more than a boy. His expression appeared cautious, but there was no fear there, just determination. For some reason, Merlin found the steely look disturbing on one so young.

Satisfied that he was alone, the man made his way up the tunnel to the surface. Merlin waited until the torchlight had completely vanished before he left the safety of his magically enhanced shadow.

He didn't know how this stranger had found his way into the caverns beneath Camelot, but Merlin did know one thing – no citizen of Camelot would have reason to be in these caves, and no visitor to the city should even know they existed. In fact, there was no valid reason for any person to be here at all.

Which meant that whoever that boy was, his reasoning for hiding beneath the citadel was a mystery that Merlin needed to solve. Because no one ever hid out in caves unless they had something to hide.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Notes__: Can we just pretend that the entire month of March never happened? Okay, good. Thanks. March was a downer of a month, and then it took me a while to get back into the right headspace to work on this story. On the upside, while wrangling chapter 8 into shape, I also made a fair start on chapter 9. So stay tuned._

_Also, I feel like I should apologize to any reviewers that I haven't replied to. I don't always reply to all reviews, mostly because I don't want to clog up your inboxes with pointless replies when I should be filling your inbox with update alerts. But whether or not I reply, I deeply appreciate all of your reviews/comments/thoughts/etc. They make me smile every time. :)_

* * *

After yet another restless night (and honestly, these nightmares were getting out of hand), Merlin set out early, leaving a brief note for Gaius explaining that he had errands to run. Merlin could already picture Gaius's reaction; he would huff a bit at Merlin's vague message, raise one eyebrow in contemplation, and then toss the note aside as he went about his business as usual. Gaius was used to Merlin running off for one reason or another. At this point, the old physician only began to worry if Merlin was gone for several days at a time, which shouldn't be necessary in this case.

His encounter last night had proven that there was an imposter in Camelot, and Merlin intended to find out exactly why he was here. Sneaking out of the castle in the early morning, Merlin returned to the tunnels. As he had no other clues, it seemed the most logical place to start his investigation.

* * *

Gwaine wanted to hate Percival for his overprotective smothering. But some part of his foggy brain actually realized that his friend meant well and was worried about him. And if Gwaine was honest with himself, he really needed a friend right now. Especially since he'd basically destroyed one of his closest friendships yesterday morning.

After Percival stopped him from escaping to the tavern for the second time, Gwaine had finally given up and gotten some rest. That didn't mean he'd slept, necessarily. Well, he had dozed most of the afternoon. But for a few hours at least, while Percival was out training, Gwaine had stayed in the castle and just stared at the ceiling, thinking.

He still remembered how betrayed he had felt when he found out about Eira. He remembered watching her execution from high up in the castle and wanting only revenge. And most of all, he remembered the crazed look in Morgana's eyes as she tortured him for information, swearing that she would find Arthur and destroy him, promising she would relish the opportunity to watch the crows pick the flesh from Arthur's bones.

The memories weren't pleasant, but they'd given him much to think about. As had the image of Merlin's devastated expression when Gwaine had stormed out of Gaius's chambers.

It seemed that Gwaine had only unpleasant memories to keep him company.

So he appreciated all of Percival's attempts to distract him, but he still kept silent, locked in his own thoughts, as he sat across from Percival at breakfast, picking absently at his food.

A knock at the door eventually caught his attention. Percival rose to answer it, and there in the doorway stood Arthur Pendragon. The king greeted Percival politely, but it was obvious that he wasn't here to see him. Gwaine looked at the table, uncharacteristically uncomfortable with the thought of facing his king.

"Gwaine," Arthur spoke softly. "How are you feeling?"

Gwaine swallowed. "I'm fine, sire."

Arthur pulled up a chair and sat opposite of the sullen knight, while Percival took up a position nearby, leaning against the window sill. Gwaine had a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like where this conversation was going and wished he'd had something stronger to drink beforehand.

But for several long moments, no one said a word. Arthur leaned back in his chair, watching Gwaine steadily until his patience broke under the weight of the king's gaze.

"Well, just come out and say it, will you," Gwaine said, scowling.

"Say what?"

"That it's my fault. That I was a bloody fool." Gwaine violently shoved back his chair, standing and turning away as he began to pace. "And damn it, Morgana never would have known our plans if I hadn't let Eira fool me."

"You can't know that for certain, and you mustn't hold yourself responsible for Morgana's actions."

"You don't understand, Arthur." Gwaine's pacing grew more agitated. "She used Eira to get to me. And I let her."

"I know. Guinevere and Leon told me everything – with a few clarifications from Gaius and Merlin to fill in the details. I know exactly what happened. And I also know that if you hadn't told Eira, Morgana would have learned our plans some other way. Lord knows, she's found enough ways to fool us all in the past. This was just another one of her ploys. You can't blame yourself for the outcome."

Gwaine's pacing had slowed until he came to a stop, his back to both Arthur and Percival.

A part of him wanted to believe Arthur's words, but the larger part kept seeing Morgana's wild eyes and hearing her voice taunting him, telling him all the things she would do to Arthur, to Camelot. Gwaine shuddered to think how close Morgana had come to destroying everything he cared about. And he had done nothing to stop her.

"Listen, Gwaine. You've made mistakes. We all have. And I know better than anyone what it's like to be fooled and betrayed by someone you believed you could trust. I've experienced it over and over again. But if I've learned one thing, it's that you must work through your guilt in your own time and in your own way. Nothing I say can change what happened. And nothing you've done will change who you are: you're a knight of Camelot and one of the strongest men I've ever met." Arthur paused and Gwaine cringed, waiting for the inevitable _but_...

"But right now, I need you by my side, not wallowing in misplaced guilt."

Startled by his words, Gwaine turned back to face Arthur and found that he'd moved, coming to stand a few feet from Gwaine so that they now stood face to face. The sight struck Gwaine as strange. He'd never thought to see Arthur again. Yet here he was, standing tall and looking even more regal than usual, in spite of the gentle compassion in his eyes….or perhaps it was because of it.

"I'm convening the privy council this afternoon," Arthur said, "and I need you there." Gwaine nodded his acceptance. "I rely on your council and support, just as I do with all of my knights, and I find myself in need of that support now more than ever. But before the meeting, I needed to ask you something." Arthur paused, drawing a deep breath. "It's about what you said yesterday."

Gwaine winced. "You're going to tell me off for yelling at Merlin?"

Arthur looked a bit surprised, but he considered Gwaine's question. "I hadn't planned to, but I suppose there is that whole mess to consider."

"Well, just add it to the list, then. Percival over here has already tried to tell me I'm an idiot. Hell, even I know I'm an idiot. And a useless one at that. First, I let a traitor into Camelot. Then I told your evil witch of a sister exactly where to find you. And then I went and disowned my oldest friend." Gwaine rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. "You might as well banish me now so I can go crawl into the nearest tavern."

"Oh, no, I'm not letting you off the hook that easy." Arthur shook his head. "Half of what you just said isn't even your fault. And as for the rest of it… well, I'm not here to talk about my idiotic ex-servant."

"You're not?"

"No. As far as I'm concerned, you're free to yell at him as much as you'd like. I certainly did." Arthur frowned as he paused. "Well, no, actually I tried to send him away, but that turned out to be somewhat impractical, considering he was trying to save my life at the time."

Something about this whole conversation was surreal enough to make Gwaine's head hurt, and he wondered suddenly if maybe those potions Gaius had left for him had some unwanted side effects.

"Regardless, that's not the reason I wished to speak with you," Arthur said. He gave Gwaine a serious look before continuing. "Sir Gwaine, I have reason to believe you've been lying to me about your past, about who you were before you came to Camelot."

Gwaine had to physically force himself to remain calm. "If that's what you came to ask me about, then you can just forget it. It's none of your damned business."

"It was you who brought up the subject – after avoiding it for the past four years."

"I'm not discussing this with you," Gwaine said with a growl.

"But you will discuss it with Merlin?"

"Well, clearly that was a mistake."

"Was it? Because he's loyally kept that secret for five years. No one knew. Not Gaius, and certainly not me. Which makes me wonder why you were so determined to hide your own past?"

Gwaine sighed. "My family was from Caerleon's kingdom. My father was a knight. He died. End of story."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

"There's nothing else worth telling, sire. When my father was killed, my mother was left penniless, Caerleon refused to help her, and eventually she was forced to remarry in order to survive." Gwaine paused, fighting off the unpleasant memories that threatened to consume him. "My step-father was just like his king: an insufferable brute without a shred of nobility. I left home as soon as I could, and I never went back."

"I'm sorry," Arthur said.

Gwaine merely shrugged and looked away. "It doesn't matter."

"If it didn't matter, why keep it a secret all of these years?"

"Because it doesn't change anything," Gwaine said heatedly. "Titles and lands don't change who you are; they don't make a man noble. It's what inside a man that counts. I've known that all of my life. And Camelot was the first place where I was judged based on who I was, not on where I came from. _That_ mattered. It's one of the reasons I stayed."

Arthur nodded his acceptance. "Very well. I can accept that. And you're right. Nobility has little to do with titles or birthrights and much to do with a man's heart. Regardless of where you were born, you are loyal and brave, and I'm honored to count you as a knight of Camelot. But I don't want you to feel that you have to hide anything from me, or from your fellow knights. We're brothers in arms, and that brotherhood should not be built on dishonesty."

Gwaine couldn't help but feel the shame creep over him at Arthur's words, but he simply nodded. "Yes, sire."

Arthur laid a comforting hand on Gwaine's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Stepping away, he started to leave, but at the last moment, Arthur stopped, turning to face the two knights one more time. His eyes drifted to Percival before they settled back on Gwaine.

"Gwaine, if you truly believe that a man should be judged based on the nobility in his heart, then perhaps you should apply that same standard to Merlin." Gwaine barely held back a pained wince at the accusation, but Arthur didn't wait for a reply. "I'll expect to see both of you this afternoon," he said, slipping back into the role of commanding king.

"We'll be there, sire," Percival said.

"Good."

As Arthur closed the door behind him, Gwaine returned to the table and slumped down into his chair with a groan, resting his head in his hands. He felt exhausted, and this time he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with his injuries or Gaius's potions. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he felt his chest constrict.

"He's right, you know," Percival said softly.

Gwaine nodded miserably, finally looking back up at his friend. "I know he is."

* * *

After a mildly informative trip to the caves, Merlin now had a few clues to go on. Footprints clearly indicated that someone had been traipsing around in the tunnels, probably hiding down there at night, since Merlin had found a blanket and a cloak tucked into a corner. But it was the other items that concerned him: a forgetting charm and a vial of sleeping potion, all surrounded by traces of magic. Whoever this stranger was, he had the means to worm his way into Camelot through tricks and deception, as well as magic. In Merlin's experience, that usually meant trouble for him.

Which brought Merlin to his next stop.

Merlin darted into the kitchen, ignoring Audrey's glare. He couldn't deal with her ire right now. He briefly entertained the idea of knocking her out with a pan again, but truthfully, he didn't have the time.

Quickly spotting the object of his search, he swiftly moved towards the young kitchen maid.

"Celia," he said quietly. She looked up at him in surprise.

"Ye-yes? Can I… I mean… is there something I can do for you?"

"Actually, there is." Merlin placed a hand on her arm and drew her aside, moving them into a quiet corner. "I need to ask you a few things, and I need you to be honest with me." She looked nervous, but Merlin didn't have time to be delicate. "It's important, Celia. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't."

Biting one lip, Celia nodded.

"Good," Merlin said. "Now, yesterday you said you had a friend, someone who had just come to Camelot a few days ago?"

"Yes," Celia said cautiously. "He said he'd heard Camelot was a wonderful place and he wanted to see it for himself."

"When, precisely, did he first come to Camelot?"

"Well, he arrived the same day that the knights returned from Camlann. I remember because it was such a busy day, people everywhere and no one knew what had happened or where the king was or anything…. And I met Narin when he asked for directions."

"Narin," Merlin muttered the name quietly. He stared at Celia, his gaze intense. "Tell me everything you know about him."

* * *

After his visit to Gwaine and Percival, Arthur returned to his own chambers. Gwen greeted him with a warm smile and dismissed her maid as Arthur entered.

"Did everything go well with Gwaine?"

"As well as can be expected."

"You should go easy on him, Arthur. You didn't see him when we found out about Eira. And after what Morgana did to him…."

"No, I know. But I know, Gwaine – he's strong and he'll get through this." Arthur smiled at Gwen and took her hand as he sat in the chair beside her. "We all will."

"Yes. We will."

"But it's going to be bloody strange not having Merlin barging in here late for work every morning."

Gwen laughed. "Yes, I suppose it will. But we both agreed, Arthur. Things have to change. And that includes Merlin's role here."

For a moment, Arthur's kingly expression slipped, and he pouted slightly, like a petulant child who was told he had to give up his favorite childhood game. And in some ways, the analogy wasn't so far off. Arthur had kept Merlin in his employ for years, even over his father's complaints. It wasn't because Merlin was an impeccable servant – everyone knew he was the farthest thing from it. But Arthur liked having Merlin around. He always had. And so it became a bit of a game for Arthur to see how far he could push the boundaries, as he continually demanded more of Merlin than any ordinary servant would be willing to give. But Merlin did everything Arthur asked and more, and slowly, as the years passed, Merlin became more of a companion than a servant.

But now, Arthur knew, their already unusual relationship would have to change. They could no longer keep up the façade of the master-servant relationship, not after everything they had been through together and everything that Arthur had recently learned. But even though Arthur knew that change was necessary, that didn't mean he had to like it.

"I spoke with Geoffrey," Gwen said. "He wants us to meet him in the library. He's gathered the relevant historical documents, as well as your father's legal decrees. We can review it all in the library before you speak with Gaius. Then we'll be prepared to meet with the others this afternoon."

"Good," Arthur said flatly.

Gwen smiled. "Don't worry, Arthur. Everything will be fine. We'll sort out the legal issues and then we can move forward with the rest of our plans."

"Oh, yes," Arthur said sarcastically. "Everything will be just fine. And would you like to tell the most powerful sorcerer in the kingdom that I'm firing him? Because somehow I don't think that conversation is going to go well."

"Well," Gwen snickered, "perhaps we'll phrase it a bit more delicately than that." Arthur groaned. "Arthur, it's Merlin. He'll understand." Despite her words, Arthur was not reassured. "You should ask Gaius. He'd know better than anyone how Merlin might feel about it."

Arthur sighed. "Perhaps I will." He stood, pulling Gwen to her feet as well. "We might as well be on our way. We wouldn't want to keep Geoffrey waiting. The last thing I want is to listen to one of his scoldings. I already feel like a school boy who's been kept inside to finish his lessons."

Gwen laughed. "Oh, Arthur, sometimes you're such a child."

"Yes, well, I learned it from my idiot servant."

Guinevere was still laughing as they made their way towards the library.

* * *

It took Merlin all morning to gather enough information. Celia was helpful, but she couldn't give him all of his answers. No, he had to find this Narin himself. He'd already searched the tunnels, the stables, and the kitchens, so he'd moved on to the castle itself. Which could easily take forever, except that Merlin already knew the best places to hide.

It was nearly midday when his search was interrupted.

"Merlin!"

If that had been any other voice calling his name, Merlin might have ignored it. But he knew that voice better than anything, and if he ignored Arthur now, the king would never leave him alone.

Merlin halted and turned to see Arthur emerging from the library. That alone should have struck Merlin as odd, but he was too distracted by the sudden appearance of the king striding towards him, looking curious.

That was not good. Merlin didn't have time to deal with a curious Arthur. Not today.

"And just where are you running off to?" Arthur asked. Yep, just as Merlin had feared. Curious.

"Nowhere," Merlin said quickly. "Why do you ask, sire? You did give me the day off."

"True. But you seem in a bit of a hurry."

"No. No hurry," Merlin said, in his best imitation of a casual tone. "Just have things to do."

"Things?"

"Yes, you know… things. A few errands for Gaius, and then I have to go to the lower town to talk to someone about a… bird."

"A bird?"

"Yes, a bird. Unusual bird, eats woodworms, supposedly. Could be very useful."

"I see," Arthur said, frowning. "Are you sure that everything's all right, Merlin?"

"Of course. Just busy, is all. I've been gone a while and have some things to catch up with, and as you did give me the day off, I'm catching them. So, I'd better just…" Merlin pointed vaguely in the direction he'd been originally headed. Arthur gave him a skeptical look, but said nothing. Merlin took that as his cue to escape while he still could.

After all, he _did_ have something to catch: an intruder.

* * *

After spending most of the morning sorting through legal documents with Gwen and Geoffrey, Arthur had left the library and (after a brief encounter with a distracted Merlin in the corridor) he'd gone to see Gaius, hoping to gain a different perspective on the Great Purge and Camelot's laws against magic. In the end, he'd spent two hours in Gaius's chambers receiving a personal lesson in magical history. He'd learned more about magic in the past few hours than he had in the past five years. And it was overwhelming.

He'd started by asking Gaius about the past, his parents, and why Uther had turned so completely against all things magical. Geoffrey's histories and legal decrees told only a portion of the story, and Arthur needed the perspective of someone who had lived through it and been intimately connected with Uther's decisions. Gaius had been hesitant at first, but eventually he had filled in the missing details. Arthur had realized long ago that his mother's death (and his own birth) was the result of magic. But hearing Gaius confirm it was still difficult. So much of Arthur's life was a mystery to him, and he couldn't afford to be ignorant anymore.

Eventually, Gaius had left to deal with a patient and Arthur had stayed behind to think through what he'd heard.

He settled down at the table with a book laid out in front of him. Gaius had retrieved the book and shown it to Arthur as he explained the widespread effects of the Great Purge. But now that he was alone, Arthur found that he couldn't keep his eyes off the seemingly innocuous book. In the time of Uther Pendragon, even reading such a book would be punishable by death. And here was Arthur, calmly looking through its pages in curiosity. He didn't understand most of the words, as only a few of the instructions were written in a language Arthur could understand. The rest was a mess of elegant, unintelligible script occasionally punctuated with Merlin's own handwriting.

If Arthur needed proof of Merlin's illegal activities, this was it. He'd spent the whole morning studying royal law, so Arthur knew there was no denying that Merlin was, legally speaking, a traitor to the crown.

While flipping idly through the pages of foreign words, he heard the door creak open. Arthur looked up, surprised to see his distracted servant instead of the court physician. Hastily, Arthur shoved the book aside, closing it quickly and pushing it into the pile of other books and papers scattered across the edge of the table.

Merlin, meanwhile, was too preoccupied too notice, closing the door and then drawing to a stop as he saw Arthur seated before him, pausing to give the king a curious once over.

"What are you doing here?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well, that's a lovely greeting, Merlin."

"No, I just mean…" Merlin trailed off, lost for an explanation.

"I was speaking with Gaius, but he was called away to see to a patient," Arthur said. "He should be back any time now."

"Oh."

There was a moment of awkward silence as they both looked at one another, but then Merlin's eyes wandered about the room, losing focus as he became distracted again. As his attention returned to the table, Merlin cocked his head, his gaze drifting to the pile of books beside Arthur's elbow.

"Is that my spell book?"

Apparently Arthur hadn't been as sneaky as he'd thought.

"How should I know?" Arthur asked, taking a page out of Merlin's book and playing innocent.

"Arthur?" Merlin gave him a calculating look. "What were you and Gaius talking about?"

"You know, Merlin, as far as I can recall, you answer to me, not the other way around."

"But you didn't answer my question."

"And you didn't answer mine earlier."

Merlin attempted a clueless expression, but Arthur recognized it now and saw the nervousness underneath. "What question would that be, sire?"

Arthur resisted the urge to throw something at him. Merlin was acting suspiciously, and Arthur wondered how he'd failed to notice it all these years. Merlin only called him "sire" when they were in front of other nobles, or on the rare occasions when he genuinely wanted to show respect… or when he was trying to distance himself from Arthur.

Still, Arthur could play along.

"In the corridor earlier, when you rushed off with some nonsense about birds and woodworms. I asked if there was anything wrong. Is there?"

"Why would anything be wrong?"

Arthur sighed. "If you were still upset about what happened with Gwaine, it would be understandable."

Merlin looked away. Was that another tell, or a sign of genuine discomfort? Arthur couldn't be sure anymore.

"I'm trying not to think about it, to be honest."

Arthur nodded. "Understandable. But Merlin, if there's anything else, if anyone is giving you trouble…."

Merlin shook his head adamantly. "No. No, everything's fine. There's nothing else wrong."

"Good."

Shifting uncomfortably, Merlin looked over to the shelves behind Arthur. "Did Gaius say which patient he was going to see?"

The abrupt change in conversation left Arthur disoriented. "Uh, no. He just said he had to deliver a potion to someone in the castle. He said it wouldn't take long."

Merlin nodded and walked towards the shelves of potions and herbs. "I wonder if he used the last of the yarrow. I should see about getting more of it. And maybe some sorrel."

Arthur shrugged and stood, starting to follow Merlin as he seemed determined to avoid sustained eye contact.

"Merlin."

Ignoring him, Merlin continued muttering to himself. "And where's that list I made earlier."

Arthur was about to reach out to him when Merlin stepped aside and walked away, crossing back to the other side of the room. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. Only Merlin could be this elusive when they were standing in the same room. He was about to say something when he heard a flutter of parchment and a thump behind him. He turned to see Merlin bent over the table Arthur had just walked away from.

"Ah, here it is." Merlin held up a scrap of parchment. "That's what I was looking for. Well, I'd best be off then. Still have more errands to do."

And before Arthur could utter Merlin's name, the jumpy servant was moving to the door. "If you need me, sire, Gaius can send for me." And Merlin was gone without another word.

Arthur frowned, confused. Even after all these years, Merlin could still baffle him. He settled down at the table again, eyes narrowing when he saw the chaos Merlin had left behind. The neat pile of books had been disturbed in Merlin's search for his piece of parchment. And the spell book lay open on the table. Arthur closed it carefully, assuming that Merlin had knocked it aside in his search.

When Gaius returned not more than five minutes later, Arthur put Merlin's strange behavior aside and returned to the matter at hand.

"I apologize for the delay, sire," Gaius said. Arthur waived the apology aside.

"It's no bother. It gave me time to think." Arthur stood, squaring his shoulders.

"Are you ready for this?" Gaius asked.

Arthur nodded tensely. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Gaius gave him a fatherly and reassuring smile as they both left and made their way to the council meeting.


End file.
